The Truth Will Out
by evgrrl09
Summary: Emily is hiding a dark secret in her past that not even Hotch knows about, and it leads her into a dangerous game of cat and mouse with an old enemy. Meanwhile, two best friends begin a torrid affair that threatens to tear both of them apart. Partly AU, partly "what if?" Morgan/Garcia and Hotch/Prentiss. ***PROFILERS CHOICE AWARDS 2015 WINNER FOR BEST TEAM/CASE FIC***
1. Drink the Pain Away - Going Home

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Here's my newest story. The pairings are Morgan/Garcia (of course!) and Hotch/Prentiss. This is going to be my first full length story with Emily and Hotch as a co-starring pairing. Half of this story will be an AU retelling of one of the most famous CM story lines, and the other half will just be a "what-if" type situation. I hope you'll like it :)**

Penelope checked the clock in her office for the twelfth time that evening. The team would be returning any minute from their most recent case in Spokane, Washington, and it had been draining on all of them. Even Penelope, who remained home in Quantico most cases, felt worn down after this one involving a pedophile who kidnapped, molested, then finally strangled his victims.

But she knew someone who would be feeling much worse.

As soon as the clock hit nine, she leapt from her seat and started towards the door. Her heels clicked on the ground as she hurried down the hall of the BAU. Just as she predicted, her whole team was exiting the elevators. Weary expressions covered their faces, none of them smiling even as they saw her. She looked at all of them in concern.

"Did you fly safe, superheroes?" she blurted, her eyes falling on each and every one of them. She looked at Rossi and Hotch, the staunch leaders of their team, both of them looking ten years older than they actually were; Emily appeared as though she were ready to drop onto the floor; JJ and Reid's personalities had deflated like balloons.

Derek — as she expected — looked the worst.

His eyes lacked their usual twinkle. Every part of him was downtrodden, as if he was being weighed down by a ton of wet cement. His gaze drifted up to Penelope's, and her heart broke. This case had affected him the exact way she excepted it would.

"Yeah, we did, Garcia," Hotch said tiredly, glancing down at his phone. He sighed. "Well, that was a text from Strauss. We get the next three days off." His own eyes drifted to Emily's. "Prentiss, do you want to talk about what Noah's schedule will be for the break? I'd like to see him if it's alright."

Emily nodded. "Well, I'm sure Noah would like to see his father," she murmured tiredly. "Let's go talk in your office." She waved to all of them as she and her ex-husband left them to discuss arrangements for their son.

Derek silently slid away from the group, thinking no one would notice him slinking away. But Penelope did, and she followed after him without hesitation. Before she reached his office, he shut the door behind him. She heard the lock slide into place and sighed.

_You're not getting rid of me that easy, Derek Morgan_, she thought, chewing on her lip in determination.

Knocking sharply on the door, she waited for an answer that didn't come. "Morgan?" she called softly. "Morgan, open the door, please." No answer still. She sighed and lowered her voice so it was quieter. "Derek, you know I'm not going anywhere until you open the door. You don't want me calling your wife do you? Or I could be worse and try Fran if —"

That caused him to open the door. Whether or not it was her threat to call Savannah or Fran, she didn't know. All she knew was she was glad when he opened the door.

"You know how to leave a girl waiting, Baby Boy," she joked, placing her hands on her hips. When his expression didn't change, she sighed and motioned for him to go back in his office. Silently, he retreated inside, and she closed the door behind them. "You wanna talk about it?"

Clearing his throat, Morgan rubbed his forehead and leaned against his desk. "I'll be honest," he muttered, "all I really want is a drink."

"Well, do you have anything at home?" she asked. "Go home, open a beer, cuddle with your wife." She tried to smile, but it fell short.

He shook his head and sighed. "Savannah's not home," he grumbled. "She's at work. But even if she wasn't, I wouldn't talk with her about this. She doesn't like hearing about stuff like this."

Penelope frowned. She knew her best friend's wife wasn't particularly fond of the details of the cases they had to work, but Savannah should have known after being married to Derek for two years that he would need support after cases like this. He needed that after something that hit so close to home for him. She liked Savannah — the woman was helping plan parts of Penelope's wedding — but she didn't understand parts of their relationship at all.

Snapping her fingers, she took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Okay, I have an idea then!" she said. "Come with me. _We're _going to get a drink. My treat."

Derek's brows shot to the top of his head. "Baby Girl, I appreciate it," he said. "But it's already after nine. Your fiancé is probably wondering if he'll get to see you tonight."

She shook her head. "Lucky for us, Sam is working late, too," she said, grinning brightly. "So I'm completely free."

He gave her a doubtful look and sighed. "Alright," he begrudged. He gave her nose a tweak. "Give me a few minutes to finish up stuff here, and we'll go grab a drink."

Smiling, Penelope moved to go to the door, but before she could, Derek pulled her into a crushing embrace. Her eyes went wide, but she wrapped her arms around his wide frame almost immediately. She inhaled the musky scent of him and sighed. His arms around her were full of fatigue, and she wanted nothing more than to take all that pain away for him and shoulder it herself.

He held her for another minute before releasing her. "I'll see you soon," she murmured, patting his shoulder before exiting the room.

Fifteen minutes later, Penelope exited her office to find Derek walking down the hall toward her. She smiled and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. "Ready to go?" she asked, offering him her arm.

He took it and smiled, kissing her temple. "Whenever you are," he murmured tiredly.

They arrived at their local bar twenty minutes later. Each of them took their separate cars so they could go home when they needed. As they settled into a corner table, drinks in hand, Penelope studied her best friend carefully. He stared at his whiskey, tracing the rim of the glass with the tip of his index finger.

"They were all eight or nine years old," he muttered, not looking up from the amber liquid. "Just little kids, Garcia."

Penelope lifted her glass and took a sip of her Manhattan. "I know, honey," she murmured. "But you saved Kenton Harris. You got him back to his parents safe and sound, and now he can grow up."

"But this shit is always gonna stick with him," Morgan growled. "Every day of his life is gonna be haunted by this!" He shook his head bitterly and lifted his glass to take a long gulp. "You don't forget something like this. He's gonna need lots of help. "

"And he'll get it," Penelope assured him. "He's got people who love him, who care about him. They'll make sure he's got a support system."

Derek shook his head. "People you love don't always understand your demons," he grumbled. "Even if they should try."

"Is that why you don't talk to Savannah about this?" she asked, cocking a brow. "Because you think she won't understand? Derek, she's your wife. If you think she can't understand, then there's something going on in your relationship you need to work out. You need to talk to her about this." She sighed and looked at him softly, sympathetically. "She's your wife. You should talk to her."

"Savannah doesn't need to worry about —"

Penelope snorted. "Don't give me that," she scolded. "You married her, Morgan. When you said your vows, you made a promise that you would be honest with her."

"Baby, we didn't do any special sort of vows, and I don't think I remember anything about telling her about having to tell her my deep, dark, scary secrets," he joked, sipping his whiskey again. "I didn't have anything to say that wasn't cliché or average." He laughed. "I could probably write incredibly unique vows for, say, _you. _But for Savannah…it just seems like there's nothing there."

Shaking her head, Penelope narrowed her eyes at him. "You know damn well you should be talking to her," she grumbled, ignoring his comment about her. They said things like that all the time to one another, harmlessly flirting. They made sure Sam and Savannah didn't know about it — who would want their significant other getting chummy with a male of female friend in that way? — but they still did it.

He looked up at her and shot her a foxy grin. "Now why would I talk to her when I could just talk to you?" he asked, leaning forward to tweak her nose.

"You didn't marry _me_," she pointed out. "You married Savannah."

Sighing, he leaned back in his seat and nodded. "No, I know," he said, rubbing his face tiredly. "I love her, I just…I don't feel like I can talk to her about everything. If I'm being honest with myself, I would say we won't make it to five years. That's horrible to say, but it's how it is."

"Oh, _mon cher_," Penelope sighed, finishing off her drink. "You don't need to tell her everything. Just the important stuff."

"And you tell Sam everything?" Derek retorted. "Marriage isn't easy for anyone in the bureau. Look at Hotch and Prentiss. They were married for just two years before they called it quits. And their situation is worse because they have a kid."

As Penelope opened her mouth to point out that Hotch and Emily were different people than Morgan and Savannah, her cellphone rang. The ringtone was Sam's. Raising a finger to Derek, she answered the call.

As soon as she put the phone to her ear, Sam's voice filled her ear. "Penelope? You there?"

"Hey pumpkin," she chirped. "Are you home yet?"

"I just got here. I was wondering if you were on your way yet," he replied. The sound of a cork getting popped sounded in the background. She sighed. Apparently Sam was wanting to have a romantic glass of wine before bed.

Biting her lip, she looked at Derek with concern. "Oh, honey, I don't think I'm gonna be back for…" Her voice halted when Derek started shaking his head. "Hang on, Sam." She put her hand over the mouth piece. "Baby Boy, I can stay. Sam can —"

Derek cut her off and put his hand over hers. "Go home," he said. "Sam can't get any hanky panky if his girl isn't around." He winked.

Looking at him doubtfully, Penelope nodded reluctantly. "I'm leaving just now," she said, returning her attention to Sam. "We're done with our drinks."

"I'll see you soon then!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I love you."

"Love you, too," she murmured with a smile before hanging up. She sighed and put her phone back in her bag. Looking at Derek once more, she took his hand and gave it a squeeze, looking at him in the eye. "I'm going home now, but I want you to call me if you need me."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I appreciate it, Baby Girl," he murmured.

They stared at one another for a long moment, unblinking. She smiled again and coughed. "Well, I'm going now," she said, rising to her feet. She placed several dollar bills on the table for the drinks. "I'll see you in a few days."

As she started away from the table, he called out to her, "Goodnight, Penelope."

Turning around, Penelope flashed him her classic grin, hoping it might alleviate some of his pain. "Night, Handsome," she called back before heading to her car to return home to her loving fiancé.

XXXXX

Emily stopped her car in her home's driveway at approximately ten. She and Aaron managed to work out the schedule for when Noah would see his father in a brief period of time. She managed to get home before midnight where she could kiss her son goodnight.

As she entered her home through the kitchen-side garage door, the sound of little feet pounding across hardwood floors reached her ears. She sighed. Somehow her son's nanny didn't think getting a six year old to bed by ten was necessary tonight.

"Mom!" Noah cried, appearing around the corner into the kitchen.

A smile covered Emily's face as Noah ran toward her and threw his arms around her waist. She kissed the top of his head. "Hey buddy," she murmured, releasing him to drop her bag on the counter. "Wanna tell me why you're up still?" She tilted his chin upwards so he was looking up at her.

Everything about Noah screamed that he was Aaron Hotchner's son. The two shared virtually everything about their appearances, save for the eyes, which Noah had inherited from Emily. But when she looked at him, all she saw was her ex-husband. Even his smile was the same as Aaron's, albeit a wider version of it.

"Elise let me stay up 'just this once' so I could see you!" he chirped. "I told her I wanted to see you before I go to sleep, and she said it was okay just this once because I haven't seen you in a week."

As if sensing her name being said, Noah's nanny, Elise entered the kitchen, zipping her coat up and adjusting her purse on her shoulder. She smiled hastily. "Hi, Emily," she said. "I'm glad you're here! I've got to run. My boyfriend just called to tell me that his car broke down, so he needs me to come pick him up."

Emily smiled and ruffled Noah's hair. "Alright, Elise," she said, suppressing a yawn. "I'll call you when we're going out of town next. We got the next three days off, though, so you get them off, too."

"Okay, cool," Elise said. "Sorry I let him stay up this late. I wanted to —"

Holding up her hand, Emily shook her head. "Elise, it's okay," she said with a laugh. "I'll put him to bed. We'll see you later."

Once the nanny was gone, Emily plastered a faux stern expression on her face and pointed to the archway that led to the stairs. "Up the stairs, you," she teased, kicking her shoes off. "You need to get to bed. You've got a busy day tomorrow."

Noah frowned. "Mom, what are you talking about?" he asked as she hustled him toward the stairs. "Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't have to do anything tomorrow but watch cartoons."

Arching a brow, she grinned as they walked up the stairs. "Oh? You'd rather watch cartoons than see your dad?" she asked.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Noah turned and looked at his mother, eyes wide with excitement. "Dad's picking me up tomorrow?" he exclaimed, a broad smile spreading across his face. "_Really_?"

Emily laughed and leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of his head. "Yup, your dad will be here to get you at nine," she said. "He's gonna take you to get breakfast, and you'll do whatever else he has planned for you."

"Did he tell you what we're going to do?" Noah blabbered on as he plopped down on his bed. He started to slide into his covers, burrowing in the blankets so only his head bearing his silly smile was visible.

"No, I've got no idea what he's got planned," Emily said, sitting on the edge of her son's bed. _He doesn't always tell me what's on his mind_, she added silently to herself as she thought briefly about Aaron. _He never has. _Her eyes drifted to Noah's night table where a two photos sat: one of him and Emily at Morgan's wedding two years ago, and the other of him and Aaron from just two months ago at the zoo. Aaron looked so normal, a smile on his face as Noah sat on his shoulders in front of the giraffe enclosure.

There had been a time when she thought she saw that in Aaron, the love and happiness that the smile portrayed, but now she didn't see it anymore. It was what led them to divorce.

Noah sighed. "Oh, okay," he yawned. Out of nowhere, exhaustion appeared in his eyes. It was as if getting into his blankets sparked the need for sleep in him.

Emily moved a piece of hair from Noah's face and sighed. "You're gonna need a haircut soon, little man," she remarked.

He gave her a sleepy smile. "I hate haircuts," he complained, yawning as his eyes started to drift shut.

She smiled, leaned forward, and kissed the top of his head. "I know you do," she murmured. "I love you, Noah. Sleep well."

"Love you, too, Mom," he whispered.

Emily rose to her feet and crossed the room to shut the lights off. Before shutting the lights off, she gazed at her son one last time. His breathing sounded on the verge of sleep, and she sighed. His excitement from before had been mere adrenaline; he would be sound asleep in a matter of moments.

After changing out of her work clothes and pouring a glass of wine, Emily plopped herself onto the living room couch. Her head tilted backwards against the cushions, forcing her gaze to the ceiling. She sighed as she sipped the dark red wine, letting the liquid slide down her throat and warm her belly.

What the hell was she going to do tomorrow? She would be on her own. Maybe she could organize an afternoon with JJ and Garcia. Or an evening. Either way, she wanted alcohol or caffeine.

As she sat with her wine, she closed her eyes, leaving herself to the mercy of her thoughts. Somehow, yet again, they drifted to Aaron. She hated that her mind kept punishing her by returning her there, but it happened unconsciously.

Her marriage of two years to Aaron Hotchner had been a happy one until the last six months of it when they realized they couldn't sustain themselves on secrets and emotions not being shown. Hotch complained she didn't tell him enough about her past to the point where he felt like he knew nothing about her.

She never told him it was to protect him. Corpses lurked in her closet that no one wanted to know about. Open and gaping wounds still lingered within her from the darkness that remained in blotches on her conscience.

Her eyelids felt heavy against her eyes, and gradually she began to doze off.

_"__He's gonna look just like you, ya know?" Emily said with a smile as she and Aaron stood over their son's crib. Six month old Noah lay on his back, his eyes closed and his little tongue poking out of his mouth. "I noticed that when he first came out of me."_

_Aaron smiled one of his rare, small smiles and wrapped an arm around his wife's waist. "Well the first thing _I_ noticed about him was that he's got _your _eyes," he said in a hushed tone so as not to wake Noah. "Same shape, same color, all of that."_

_Shrugging, Emily leaned into him and sighed. "Ah, well," she said wistfully. "Most people won't notice that the same way you do, though."_

_"__Rossi did," Aaron pointed out._

_"__Rossi's a profiler," Emily returned. "Of course _he'll _notice."_

_Hotch kissed the top of her head. "Maybe after this guy's a few years older we'll have another one, and he or she will look exactly like you," he remarked._

_For a moment, Emily's vision went blank. A small boy's image filled her mind, but it wasn't Noah. It was someone entirely different, a curly-haired blonde boy with large blue eyes that stared at her with curiosity and a gleam of affection. All at once guilt washed over her, and she forced down a lump in her throat._

_"__Emily?"_

_Blinking several times, Emily's vision returned to her. She looked directly over at Aaron and cocked her head to the side. "Yeah?"_

_"__You okay?" he asked. "You got quiet all of the sudden."_

_Smiling tightly, she nodded. "Yeah, sorry," she murmured. "Just spaced out, I guess."_

_He nodded, concern flashing in his eyes for a moment. "Okay," he finally said, his lips finding her temple again. "I love you."_

_She turned and took his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his. "I love you, too," she whispered, resting her forehead against his._

_But that night, when they were laying in their bed beneath the blankets and his arms were wrapped tightly around her, the young boy consumed her dreams, slowly slipping away from her into blackness as tears streamed down her face._

Sitting up abruptly, Emily realized her breath was coming in deep gasps. Her wine was miraculously still in her hand and not spilled all over the couch, but she felt nothing but sorrow. Leaning forward, she set the wine glass down on the coffee table before putting her head in her hands. How could her evening go from thinking about Aaron to thinking about…no, she couldn't think about him. Her heart would only feel sore, and she would be kept from sleep all night.

Sighing, her eyes drifted to the clock and she smacked her forehead. She'd fallen asleep until one o'clock.

"Time for bed, Prentiss," she muttered, getting to her feet and banishing the previous thoughts from her head. Padding to the kitchen, she tossed back the rest of her wine before sticking the glass in the dishwasher and trudging off to bed.

**So here's the first chapter. As you can tell, Jack is NOT character in this story as Haley and Hotch were never married in the past for the purpose of this tale. Please review if you have a moment! I'd love to hear your thoughts :)**


	2. Sandalwood - A Hard Night

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for the response, guys! My Christmas break is coming up and with the end of the semester that means PAPERS (*grrrrrs*)! I'll post as much as I can, but soon as I'm home for the holidays, I'll have much more time to work on this. Sorry about the delays in these!**

Rarely did Aaron Hotchner find himself in a situation he found uncomfortable, but going to his ex-wife's house never ceased to make him tense.

_I'll just get Noah and get out, _he thought to himself. He didn't want to linger here any longer than he had to. Seeing Emily outside of the BAU always felt strange, even if they'd once been married.

Aaron exited his car to go up the walk to the porch and knock on Emily's door — the door he once called _their _door — and waited patiently for her or Noah to open it. After a mere few moments, the door opened to reveal Emily. He observed her as she stood tall in her dark jeans that hugged her hips and a casual V-neck. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to meet her eyes.

"Hello, Emily," he managed past the lump in his throat. Part of him felt excited to see her like this, casual and in their former home; the other part of him wanted nothing more than to retreat within himself where he wouldn't have to face her.

She simply nodded to him and stepped aside to allow him inside. Crossing the threshold, he caught a whiff of her sandalwood perfume — or maybe it was just lotion. Either way it didn't matter; the smell of her invaded him and refused to retreat. His eyes flicked around in the atrium for any sign of Noah so he could escape the house…and Emily.

"Did you manage to get some sleep last night?" she asked, breaking the tense silence. "Or did you stay late to do paperwork?"

"I managed to get back to my apartment around one," he said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I tossed and turned for a bit, but I fell asleep around three."

She bit her lip and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked just as awkward as he felt. "Oh," she mumbled. "Well…I guess that's good."

Both of them refused to meet the others eyes. Aaron remembered a time when this wasn't how it went at all, when they were able to talk with each other and stare into one another's eyes for hours on end. Now…nothing. All because they realized she was keeping too many secrets and he didn't show enough emotion to sustain a marriage.

They managed to maintain a professional relationship, one that would not disturb the dynamic of the team. He remembered when he first announced he and Emily would be seeking a divorce, and Garcia begged and pleaded with Emily to not leave the team.

_We're a family!_ he'd heard her say when she thought she and Emily were alone. _You can't leave me…you can't leave _us_!_

How wrong Garcia had been. They weren't a family, at least he and Emily weren't anymore. They no longer shared the same home, the same bed, the same last name. All that remained of their marriage and life together was Noah.

That didn't mean he didn't _want _to look at her, though. Even if he'd dated other women since they'd divorced, Emily still triumphed over all of them as the most beautiful woman in the world to him. He found her just as sensual, just as enchanting as he did the day she first stumbled into his office with her box of overflowing desk supplies and files in her arms. No one else held the ability to cloud his senses with even just their scent, no one had the same way of gazing at him and being able to scrutinize every last detail of what he was feeling and why.

"So…" Her voice came out awkwardly, stilted. He kept his eyes trained on the floor, though. He couldn't find it in himself to look at her for fear he'd break his façade and look excited to be gazing at her. "What do you plan to do with Noah today?"

Rubbing the top of his head, Aaron shrugged. "Breakfast out, the park for a few hours, a movie with dinner at the apartment," he rambled. "Nothing over the top."

"Okay," she murmured. "What time do you plan on having him back tomorrow?"

Finally, he looked up at her and met her eyes. Both of them tensed up, but they held one another's gaze at least. Aaron coughed. "What time do you want him back?" he asked. "I've got nothing going on tomorrow, so I was thinking —"

"He's got homework, too," she reminded him, placing her hands on her hips.

He nodded, his neck stiff. "I realize that. I can help him with it in the morning or early afternoon and then get him back here before dinner."

Emily stared at him another moment, but eventually nodded her acquiescence. "Sounds good," she said. "I —"

Before she could finish though, the sound of footsteps thundering down the steps interrupted her.

"_Dad_!"

Aaron looked away from Emily and in the direction of his son's overjoyed voice as Noah leapt of the bottom stair. He smiled as Noah grinned brightly at him and threw his arms around his father's waist.

"Hey, buddy," he said, hugging Noah back and ruffling his hair. "How've you been?"

Noah shrugged. "Eh, I've been _bored _while you guys were gone," he said. "You guys need to not go away for so long next time. Elise is alright to hang out with, but not as cool as you guys are."

"We'll try not to," Aaron assured him, even though he knew he couldn't make that promise with the jobs he and Emily had. Nodding to the backpack on his son's back, he arched a brow. "Got all your homework in there? Your mom and I want you to get it done with me tomorrow morning before you come back home here."

Huffing, Noah nodded. "Yeah," he muttered. "I've got it all…even though I don't want to do it."

"Tough luck, champ," Emily said with a laugh. She opened her arms for Noah to go in and hug her. Gladly and without hesitation, he threw his arms around her waist and squeezed her tightly. Emily made an "_Oof_!" noise and grinned. "Alright mister, you have a good time with Dad, okay? Try to behave." She tweaked his nose and nudged him toward Aaron. When her eyes drifted up to Aaron's one last time, the smile faded, blinking away as if looking at him pained her physically. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Aaron swallowed hard and nodded. He needed to get out of this house as soon as possible "Yeah," he mumbled, placing a hand on Noah's shoulder to guide him out the door. "See you."

And without another word, he motioned for his son to go out the door. As soon as they were outdoors, and his son was babbling on, Aaron couldn't help but think of how grateful he was to have left the sandalwood palace that was Emily's home.

The home that once belonged to both of them and where they'd been a family.

XXXXX

"Dad?" Noah asked as Aaron they were tossing a baseball around. He caught the ball in his mitt and threw it back to his father. "I have a question."

Aaron arched a brow and caught the ball effortlessly. It was early afternoon, the sun shining down on the Hotchner boys as they played catch. They'd been running around all morning, and Noah was beginning to look exhausted from all his endless dashing. All afternoon had been pleasant, no thoughts of work or Emily invading Aaron's mind. He motioned for his son to sit with him on the scratchy wood of the bench.

"What's up, bud?" Aaron asked, placing his hand on his son's shoulder. Noah looked down at the mitt in his lap and sighed. When he didn't immediately respond, Aaron grew concerned. "You okay there? You got real quiet all of the sudden."

Noah bit his lip. "Why do you and Mom not smile at each other?" he asked. When Aaron didn't respond immediately, Noah elaborated. "I mean, I know _you _don't smile at most people, but you do sometimes. And Mom smiles at lots of people — Miss Penelope makes her smile _all _the time! — but you never look at each _other_ and smile." He looked up at Aaron and eyed him expectantly.

Aaron sat silently for a moment. How could he accurately explain this to his six year old? "Well, buddy," he began. "Your mom and I used to be close, but…that changed. So we split apart." He smiled and ruffled Noah's lengthening hair. "So we smile at each other a little less because we aren't close anymore. But we both love you so much. No one matters more to me than you, and I know that goes for your mom, too."

"Real?" Noah asked with a hesitant smile.

Nodding, Aaron kissed his son's head. "Yup. Real." With a heavy heart, he sighed heavily and added, "You really need a haircut. You know that?"

Noah crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled, "Mom said the same thing."

Aaron knew he should have chuckled at that, but he couldn't. The idea that he and Emily thought the same exact thing made him feel deflated. He wanted to feel alive and happy again with her, but all he felt like right now was giving up.

XXXXX

Derek sat across the table from Savannah, his eyes trained downward on his food as his wife babbled on. He picked up his glass, his arms mechanical as he took a drink of water. His eyes drifted up to meet hers, and he forced his neck to move in a nod. Savannah's words filtered through one ear, but by the time they reached his brain, he had no concept of what she was saying.

Right now, though, he caught part of it: she was talking about redecorating their bedroom, and she was stuck on the subject of olive green paint.

His mind drifted away from the conversation, bobbing from topic to topic like a boat bouncing off waves. He wondered what Penelope was doing at that moment. After their drink, he'd remained at the bar for another hour, staring aimlessly into his drinks that came and went. Somehow, her presence had kept him grounded, and when he returned home, that grounded feeling abandoned him.

He'd woken up from one of his classic nightmares later that night. Afterwards, he proceeded to call Penelope.

He got nothing but her voicemail, then returned to bed to do nothing but toss and turn. The rest of the night he fought against the onslaught of his childhood memories that plagued him while his wife was at work.

Not that she would have been much help anyway; Savannah said she needed to give him space when he had his nightmares.

"What do you think of that?" Savannah's voice broke through his haze of thinking of the previous night.

Derek blinked several times after taking a bite of his chicken. "Green sounds great, honey," he said. He took a sip of his water. When Savannah pursed her lips at him, he arched a brow. "Something wrong with me agreeing with you?"

She sighed. "Derek, I didn't ask about paint colors," she said. "I asked what you thought about us going on a double date with Sam and Penelope tomorrow. There's some wedding stuff I wanted to talk to them about."

He could have smacked his forehead. This wasn't the first time she'd caught him not listening to her completely. But the idea she'd asked about was a great one to him. He wanted spend time with his best friend, even if it meant they were sitting through wedding preparations.

Looking directly at his wife again, he nodded. "Oh, sure!" he said, hoping his eagerness was as tapered down as he wanted it to be.

Savannah smiled. "Okay, awesome!" she said, shaking off the fact he was barely paying attention to her. "I'll call Penelope and set something up with her! Maybe we can try La Riviera. Penelope was telling me she was thinking about that for the rehearsal dinner!"

Derek smiled tightly and took a conservative sip of his water. "Sounds good," he said. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he changed the subject to something he actually had interest in. He could care less about what Penelope's rehearsal dinner was like, even though he was her man of honor. He would do anything to keep her happy, but fancy French restaurants were not his area of expertise. "So I keep forgetting to ask you…have you talked to my mother at all about her coming to visit for our summer vacation?"

Almost as if he'd struck her with a scalding cattle prod, Savannah sat up straight and tensed. Crossing her arms over her chest, she met his eyes and gave a heavy sigh. "Derek," she murmured. "You know how my relationship with your mother is…"

Leaning forward, Derek rubbed his forehead tiredly. His wife's relationship with his mother absolutely exhausted him. They loathed each other more than the BAU once loathed Erin Strauss before the years leading up to her death when she began to support them.

_Derek, you're my son and I love you more than anything in the world, _Fran told him once. _But that woman isn't right for you. Why couldn't you have married someone like Penelope? _There's _a woman who would be deserving of my boy!_

For the umpteenth time during that conversation, Derek was forced to — rather awkwardly — reiterate that he and Penelope were just friends, and there was nothing romantic between them.

"Savannah…" he began wearily.

"What did you expect, Derek?" she interrupted. "Your mother _hates _me! I have no idea what I did to make her feel that way, but Jesus Christ, I can't get along with her to save my life."

He shook his head and used his napkin to wipe his mouth. "Savannah, you have to _try, _okay?" he muttered. "She's my mother. She's one of the most important people in my life. I want you to get along."

"There is no way I'll ever get along with her if she keeps acting like this!" Savannah growled. "You know, I think it's her fault you don't want to go through with the fertility treatments! It's like she doesn't want grandkids. Hell, she can't even be supportive of the fact we're even _having _the problems with fertility!"

Derek groaned internally. Not this argument again. For the whole year and half after they realized Savannah would need heavy fertility treatments if they wanted to have children, Savannah convinced herself that Fran was pleased over the fact she wasn't getting grandchildren.

"Baby, you _know _that's not true," Derek muttered. "How could you say that about her?"

Rising to her feet, Savannah dropped her napkin on her half empty plate and snarled, "Because she hates me, even though you've told her a million times we love each other and are happy." She paused as she picked up her plate. "You know, sometimes I feel like Penelope is more supportive than you and your mother are! Maybe I should ask her to talk some sense into you!"

Then she stormed off, leaving Derek alone at the kitchen table with his food getting cold in front of him.

Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes and took a moment to bask in the bittersweet silence. What the hell happened to his life that he felt more miserable than happy most of the time?

Sighing, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The screen lit up and he pressed Penelope's speed dial. He lifted the phone to his ear and listened to the droning ring. It rang several times and internally he knew she wouldn't answer. It was likely she and Sam were having a romantic dinner of some sort.

Sure enough, he got her cheerful voicemail.

_Hey, you've got Garcie! Leave me a message after that annoying beep!_

As he listened to her voice and the following beep, he debated whether or not he should leave a message. In the end, he decided not to trouble her with a stupid fight he'd had with his wife. He would be alright just listening to the simple words on her message. Heaving another sigh, he rose to his feet to take his dishes to the kitchen before plopping himself on the living room couch to watch whatever was on ESPN.

XXXXX

_Somehow, his wife's hands caressing his stomach felt exhilarating, causing tingles to tickle all over his body. It had been awhile since Savannah's touch managed to arouse him. His eyes were closed and her arms were wrapped around him from behind so he couldn't see her face. Kisses began to dot the skin of his shoulder, gently moving up to his neck, then to his ear to nibble on it gently. A smile sparked on his face, and he opened his eyes so when he turned around he could see her._

_However, when he turned over so he was facing her, it wasn't Savannah at all. He lay completely still, shock racing through him as he stared into the doe-like eyes of his best friend. A coy smile was playing upon her face, and she bit her bottom lip. Tracing her fingers up his chest, she cupped his face in both hands and kissed him, whispering sweet words in his ear between their mouths touching._

"_Touch me, Hot Stuff," she purred, her voice vibrating through his whole body like a bass drum._

"_Oh, hell yes!" he growled, pulling her tighter too him. She giggled and rolled on top of him, their naked bodies meshing together just perfectly. His blood was on fire, coursing through him like molten lava across black rock. But he didn't care. This was too pleasurable to halt._

"_Penelope…" he groaned as her touch proceeded to make him harder, more —_

Derek snapped abruptly awake, his breathing labored and his skin sweaty. He looked around wildly in the dark until his eyes came in contact with the clock. _ 2:18 am. _Beside him was his wife, her own breathing quiet as her chest rose and fell. She remained sound asleep.

It was all the better; below the sheets he was hard as a rock, painfully so. Tossing the covers back, he stumbled to the bathroom in the dark. He couldn't have light on or Savannah would surely wake up.

He didn't want to explain to her he was hard because he'd been having a dream about having sex with Penelope.

As Derek stood in his bathroom, the door locked behind him, he stared at himself in the mirror and splashed cold water on his face. That had been the most erotic dream he'd ever had. Where the hell had it come from, though? Sure, he'd always found Penelope to be an incredibly gorgeous woman, but he was _married_. He should be having sex dreams about Savannah….

In fact, he should have been having sex with Savannah period.

Looking down at his rampant erection that was pressing against his boxers, Derek sighed and went to start the shower. He needed to take care of this fast.

But even as he stood beneath the cold stream of water, his eyes closed tightly as he pumped his hand up and down his member, nothing could banish the thought of Penelope's dusky rose mouth being against his.

Eventually he gave up fighting the battle against the memory of the dream; it was no use. And just like that, as he allowed the feeling of her body to wash over him, he began to come in thick, voluptuous spurts against the shower wall with his best friend as the only woman filling his mind.


	3. Odd Glances - An Old Friend

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews guys! All four of them are going through a lot of stuff, so hang in there. Most of the chapters will bounce back and forth between the men and the women's POVs…key word is ****_most, _****though. We're probably going to end up with more Emily and Penelope chapters. That being said, here's one from the ladies' POV!**

"So you're all going out to dinner tonight?" Emily asked as she, JJ, and Penelope walked down the sidewalk of their favorite shopping street. It was Sunday morning, and the three of them decided they needed a day to bask in the sun and window-shop with cups of steaming coffee in their hands.

Penelope, sipping her latte, nodded and said, "Yup. Savannah called me last night to set up a double date. She says she's got some great stuff to talk about wedding-wise."

JJ sighed beside her, a dreamy look entering her eyes. "I can't wait to see you and Sam get married," she said wistfully. She grinned. "Your wedding is gonna be beautiful!"

Shooting JJ a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, Penelope took another sip of her coffee. Her wedding certainly would be beautiful. Savannah was helping her every step of the way, and while Penelope was more than grateful, she didn't know how she felt about the _man _she was marrying. Sam made sense to her: he was funny, he could make her smile, he was good in bed. He made her feel lukewarm, content in the way she might feel sitting on a park bench on a beautiful day.

But she wasn't entirely sure that's what she wanted. When she was awake and going through the motions of the day, it didn't phase her much. But while she slept, she dreamed of something completely different. She desired the feeling of being on a burning roller coaster, where the ride was scary and life-threatening, but it sent the adrenaline rushing through her veins at light speed and made her heart thump rapidly against her ribcage.

Sam didn't provide that for her. She wanted someone who would challenge her, make her feel alive, and her fiancée was far from a challenge. In many ways, she feared her relationship was going to turn into Derek's. She thought Savannah was wonderful, and she knew the woman loved Derek with all her heart, but Derek clearly wasn't invested. Half of the time when Penelope saw him she could've mistaken him for a ghost, and in the back of her mind, she knew one day he was going to break Savannah's heart with that detachment.

"Earth to Garcia!" Emily called, waving her hand in front of Penelope's face.

Shaking her head, Penelope blinked several times and smiled brilliantly. "Yeppers?" she asked.

"Thinking about the wedding jitters?" Emily teased. She grabbed her hand, a devilish glint lighting up in her eyes. "Or are you thinking about a little bundle of joy?" She nodded to Penelope's stomach. "You got a little mini Sam in there?"

Cheeks flushing, Penelope shook her head. "No!" she mumbled with a nervous laugh. "I'm not even _close_ to the point of thinking about kids yet."

"Oh, you'll want them, sweetie," JJ sighed. "Trust me, I had no plans for them immediately when Will got together, but then Henry came along. You won't be disappointed when you finally have them."

Emily nodded in agreement. "And you'll be a great mommy, Garcie," she said. "Give Noah and Henry some buddies to play with, seeing as Derek and Savannah don't seem to be moving forward with fertility treatments."

Penelope sighed. She hated that Derek was being so stubborn about children. Children his wife so badly wanted. He seemed convinced he would be a horrible father, but Penelope knew it was just fear; Derek would be a great father, and his lack of faith in himself broke Penelope's heart.

"Well, you know, he'll come around," she sighed, sipping her coffee. "I'm going to make him realize he could be a good father." Unsure, she looked over at Emily and arched a brow. "When you and Hotch were married, did you have to convince him he would be a good dad?"

Emily's face went blank, and she averted her eyes, losing herself in her thoughts. It was awhile before she answered. "No," she murmured, her voice soft as a wisp of wind. "No, Aar —" She halted midway through his name and shook his head, as if the syllables of her ex-husband's name left a bitter taste in her mouth. "_Hotch _was never afraid to be a father. He was so excited when we had Noah."

Penelope and JJ exchanged glances at the noticeable change in Emily's demeanor, but neither of them said a word.

For a moment, the trio just walked along the sidewalk, the sounds of the city enveloping them into a visible obscurity. It was as if they all were hijacked by their individual thoughts. Penelope didn't know what her friends had consuming their minds, but all she could think of was helping Derek realize the potential happiness he and Savannah had in their grasps.

But when they reached an intersection, she chose to break the silence, becoming uncomfortable with her inability to shove her best friend's lack of happiness from her mind when she could barely find her own joy in life.

"Ooh, let's go to Theo's!" she exclaimed, pointing to the shoe shop right up ahead of them. "I could use some new heels for tonight!"

XXXXX

"This place is great!" Penelope said softly, leaning across the table at the French restaurant Savannah had made reservations at. Lifting her wineglass, Penelope clinked hers with Savannah's and took a grateful sip of the red liquid. "It's definitely on the list for the rehearsal dinner." She turned sideways to smile at Sam. "You like it, sweetie?"

He nodded and ran his fingers over the back of her neck tenderly. "Yeah, this place is nice," he said, grinning. "I'm glad you thought of having us try it tonight, Savannah."

Derek flashed everyone his classic grin and winked. "And the fact they have a bar in the other room is a plus," he jested, raising his wineglass to them.

Throwing her head back, Penelope laughed and clinked her glass with his. "Touché, Ho —" She halted seamlessly and corrected herself. "Morgan." She and Derek had always made a point to keep their harmless flirting out of the knowledge of their significant others. An amused glint lit up his eyes as he smirked at her near-mistake.

After their waiter came and took their orders, Penelope leaned forward and looked directly at Savannah. "So I think we've found the rehearsal dinner spot. What else did you want to talk wedding-wise?" She grinned. "I don't know where you find time to even _think _about this with work and that one right there." She pointed her red painted fingernail at Derek and giggled.

Savannah shrugged and gave a demure smile. She kissed Derek's cheek. "Oh, this one isn't so high-maintenance," she said with a laugh.

Penelope and Derek's eyes met. Something was off in his gaze, and Penelope fought down the urge to ask what was wrong. She would wait until later when they were alone.

"So have you two started thinking about kids yet?" Savannah asked, returning her attention to Penelope and Sam. She blinked at them, expecting a hasty answer.

Derek's head shot to look at his wife. "_Savannah_!" he hissed, appalled. Savannah ignored him and waited for an answer from either Penelope or Sam.

Freezing, Penelope resisted the urge to groan out loud. How could she possibly be so unlucky as to be asked about children _twice _in one day? Smiling tightly, she prepared herself to respond, but Sam beat her to it.

"Well, we haven't talked about it yet, but I certainly want them," he replied with a broad grin. He looked over at Penelope and waited expectantly for her answer of agreement.

Derek shook his head from across the table. "You don't have to answer that, Garcia," he muttered, his eyes flicking to his wife once more.

"She can if she wants to," Savannah insisted. "And I'd love to hear about someone who wants kids…seeing as we aren't moving anywhere with them." She looked over at her husband, a glint of aggression in her eyes.

Immediately, the air filled with tension. Penelope and Sam averted their eyes from Derek and Savannah, neither of them understanding how they were supposed to react in this situation before them.

"Are we really doing this here?" he demanded, irritated.

"Doing what?" she replied, innocence on her face but challenge in her eyes.

Penelope finally gained the courage to look up at her friends. Derek looked pissed as hell, his features clouded with rage. Savannah now stared hatefully at him, but this time a painful light shone in her eyes. Rising to his feet, Derek nodded to Penelope and Sam. "Excuse me," he groused. "I'm headed to that bar to try out their…_stronger _selections."

And then he was gone, striding across the restaurant until he was out of sight.

The rest of them sat in silence for a moment, Savannah looking like she might cry. Penelope rose to her feet as well and squeezed Savannah's shoulder. "I'll go talk to him," she murmured. She didn't wait for Sam or Savannah to say anything; she just went after her best friend. When she found him in the bar, a tumbler of amber liquid in his grasp, she placed a hand on his shoulder and sighed.

"Baby Boy, what the hell was that for?" she asked, sitting beside him on a bar stool.

He shook his head. "She shouldn't have asked you that," he muttered. "That was out of line, and she was pissed at me because of an argument we had about my mom and kids." He glanced over at her and grumbled something incoherent.

"Derek, you don't need to fight with her, though," Penelope scolded. "You need to make up with her."

Turning to look at her, Derek stared at her for a moment, silent. His eyes coasted from her face downward. They stopped for a moment, his gaze resting on her breasts. She shifted uncomfortably, but nothing short of coverage with her hands would be able to hide her cleavage. Her tight knee-length red dress had a plunging neckline, and there was no way to hide it.

_Why is he looking at me like this_? she thought.

Coughing uncomfortably, she looked toward the entrance to the bar and nodded. "Can we go back and have dinner now?" she asked, plastering an unsure grin on her face. "I'd like to get to try the food."

Derek looked back at his drink and finished it off. He kissed her cheek, his lips oddly burning an impression on her skin. "Anything for my Baby Girl's wedding plans," he joked.

XXXXX

_2 Weeks Later_

Emily shouldered her briefcase at exactly five in the evening. The team had a local case going on, and they were waiting for the results of DNA testing on a sample of clothing before proceeding any further. With Aaron at the helm of the team, Emily got permission to go home to Noah.

"Raven-haired princess!"

She heard Penelope's voice just as she was about to push the button to go down. Turning, she smiled as her friend clicked towards her in four inch heels. "Hey Garcia," she said. "What's up? You gonna be here for another couple of hours?"

Penelope shrugged. "Life of a technical analyst who was forcibly hired to the FBI," she chirped. "Morgan and I are going through all the lists of suspects again. We'll be here for a little while, but that's okay because our other halves will be working late as well."

Emily snorted. "What are you talking about? You and Morgan _are _each other's 'other half,'" she joked.

"Why do people keep saying shit like that?" Penelope groused, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yesterday when Morgan and I were grabbing lunch the waitress at the deli thought we were married! She asked us if we wanted a private room and then _winked _at us."

The sudden seriousness of her friend's behavior made Emily pause. Both Penelope and Morgan's behavior with regard to one another over the past few weeks puzzled her. Before she could respond to ask why Penelope was being bizarre, Aaron pushed his way through the glass doors that led to the bullpen. Their gazes were drawn toward their unit chief, and Emily's muscles tensed. She gazed at him evenly as he approached, and she continued to after he halted.

"Garcia," Aaron said, holding up a file. "I just got a fax list of names that I want you and Morgan to add to your search later tonight." He handed the papers over and nodded to her. "I need you two to get to these as soon as you can."

Aside from the two cases they'd gone on in the past weeks, Emily and Aaron had barely spoken to one another about anything that didn't have to do with cases. Hearing his voice made her skin tingle out of nowhere. Hell, he wasn't even talking to her right then and, but damn did she feel like a live wire. Why did her body have to have this physical reaction to him when they were no longer in love?

That got her wondering, though…didn't her reaction to him mean she _was _in love with him?

She decided she couldn't dwell on it. She'd only confuse herself more.

"Yes, sir," Penelope said, taking the files from Aaron's grasp. "I'll take these to Morgan, and we'll get through them tonight."

Aaron nodded gratefully to her. "Thanks, Garcia." Before he turned to go back inside the bullpen, he looked at Emily for a brief moment. "Tell Noah I love him, and I'll see him on our day together."

Nodding, Emily crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Yes…of course." She met his eyes once more. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them seeming to read an emotion in the other's eyes. Emily saw out of the corner of her eye that Penelope was arching at them.

Coughing uncomfortably, Aaron strode back into the bullpen without a word. Emily and Penelope stood in the hallway in silence for a moment. "He's acting strange, isn't he?" Penelope commented.

Emily shrugged and pushed the button to go down. She kept her mouth clamped shut as she tried to slow her racing heart.

"Well you were married to the man," Penelope went on. "What's your professional opinion on why he's acting like this?"

The elevator doors slid open and Emily shook her head to her friend. "Oh, no no," she laughed bitterly. "I'm not touching that one with a twenty foot pole. The two of us divorced, Garcia. I wouldn't know jackshit about the man anymore." She got in the elevator and waved at Penelope. "I'll see you tomorrow, Garcie."

Penelope grinned, waving before the door blocked her from sight. When the elevator reached the garage level, Emily's cellphone rang, echoing off the walls of the parking lot. Rummaging in her bag, she pulled her phone out and read the caller ID.

_Sean McCallister_.

Emily frowned. Here was a name from the past. A past she wasn't sure she was ready to revisit yet, even if it had happened over a decade ago.

Curiosity got the better of her in the end, and she answered the call before it could dash to voicemail.

"Hello?" she answered, hesitant.

"Emily!" Sean's Scottish accent blared through the phone and filled her ear almost painfully.

She winced and moved the phone away from her face for a moment. He certainly sounded cheery. "Hey, Sean," she said, allowing a smile to grace her face while she looked for her keys. "I don't mean to sound abrupt, but what is this about? It's been —"

"A long time," he interrupted, his voice going serious in a matter of seconds. "I know. But this is important. I need to see you."

She frowned. "When will you be in the States?" she asked. "I suppose if you're —"

"No, you misunderstand me," he said, interrupting her again. "Emily, I'm here in DC. I need to see you now. It's that important."

Emily shook her head and snorted. "Sean, I'm supposed to pick up my son from his nanny's," she explained. "I can't just run off for no reason to meet with old friends."

"We don't have to meet long, but I need you to hear what I have to say in person," he insisted. "I came all the way here to tell you this because your life is in danger. If you want to protect your son, you'll meet with me."

Her blood ran cold. What could Sean possibly be talking about? A danger to Noah? People who would target her or her family were all locked up; there was no danger to Noah that wasn't in a maximum security prison. If Sean was here, it must really be serious.

"Let me call the nanny to let her know I'll be late," she murmured, her hands shaking as she opened her car door and got in. "Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Find me at Finnegan's on Stuart Street," Sean finished. "I'll be in the back."

Emily hung up and started the car, pulling out of the garage as quickly as she could. Something caused Sean to act as rattled as he'd sounded on the phone, and she needed to know why. If it meant protecting Noah, she would listen to anything her old friend had to say…even if it meant revisiting her past.

XXXXX

When Emily arrived at Finnegan's Bar, she found Sean sitting in a booth in the back. A beer was in front of him, and he watched the door carefully for her. She reached him and smiled. Sean rose from his seat and grinned, pulling her into a hug.

"You look great, Sean," Emily said, hugging her former colleague back. "How have you been the past twelve years? Well? What about your family?" They sat down at the table, and Emily removed her jacket.

He shrugged. "I've been well, too," he said. "Family is doing good. How about yours?"

"Well, since we last spoke I divorced Aaron," she said tightly, a lump forming in her throat that she forced herself to ignore. "Noah started first grade this year. Work keeps us away from him a lot, but we try to make up for it by spending as much time with him as possible.

Sean nodded his approval. "It sounds like you've got a good life going for you," he commented. "Certainly more stable than what it was before." He winked.

She nodded vigorously. "You have no idea how grateful I am for it," she replied.

He arched a brow. "Do you ever miss it, though?" he asked. "Traveling the globe, catching international criminals and terrorists?"

"I was younger then, Sean," she said, scowling as she looked away. "I wanted it then, but it was too dangerous. And being away from my family like that would kill me. Months at a time away from Noah? I would never be able to do that."

He sighed. "I can understand that," he remarked.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Emily asked, skipping past the formalities. She didn't care anymore about small talk; she needed to know what was a danger to Noah. "You sounded frantic on the phone, and not much scares you."

Sean's expression darkened, and his voice lowered. "It's…it's Ian Doyle," he revealed after a moment of deep silence.

Emily's blood ran frigid. The very name of the international arms dealer she seduced and spied on twelve years ago sent a chill up her spine she wanted nothing more than to escape. Most of the time she kept him in the deepest recesses of her mind, locking him away so he wouldn't paralyze her with fear. But every once in awhile, he invaded her dreams.

But her fears were supposed to be irrational. Ian Doyle was in an international high security prison.

"What about him?" she croaked.

"He escaped from prison," he murmured, his voice almost inaudible. "He's…missing."

Her mouth fell open. "_Escaped_?" she said in disbelief. "How could he escape the walls of that prison? It was supposed to be the best one to hold him." When Sean didn't answer her, she put her hand over her mouth. "If he's off the grid, he'll come after me. And if he finds out about Noah, he'll go for him first because it will be worse than killing me."

"And let's not forget about —"

Emily shook her head vigorously. "No!" she hissed. "No, you can't say his name. If Doyle is out, who knows who he has keeping tabs on us. He can't know anything."

Sean shot her a sympathetic glance. "Emily, you know that's what he'll be coming after," he reminded her. "If he finds you, doing something to Noah won't be to just hurt you. He'll want —"

"Stop!" she said, voice rising a decibel too loud. She attracted the attention of the few people in the bar and lowered her voice so no one could hear her anymore. "Everyone who knows the truth who isn't you or I is dead. They died in the massacre in Ireland. If we stay quiet, nothing will happen or blow our cover."

But she didn't believe her words. If Ian Doyle was out, there was no guarantee what he would do. He didn't know her real name, but the desperation and determination he would display would surely lead him to her.

"How much in danger will we be in?" she asked hoarsely.

Sean stared at her with his intense dark eyes before answering her. "You know the answer to that," he reminded her.

Emily looked at the table and her shaking hands. Lifting one hand, she bit her thumbnail. Sean was right: she did know the answer.

The danger was on its way, and she needed to do everything she could to protect Noah and Hotch. If Doyle was after her, they were the first ones he would go after.

He would do anything for the answer for to her secret.


	4. Bitten Nails - An Evening of Shiraz

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you for the reviews, guys :) You keep me going. We've got a bit more to go before you all find out what's really going on with Emily and that torrid affair begins. Please enjoy this next chapter with the dudes' POVs and leave a review if you have time!**

Aaron sat in his office early in the morning, scribbling his signature on several case reports. He chose to hurry to work this morning so he could spend time with his son after the work day was done. The local case was over now, having lasted a week, and he was looking forward to possibly getting to spend time with Noah after barely seeing him.

As he finished his last file, the bullpen started to awaken. One of the people entering the bullpen was none other than Emily. Only she didn't look like her usual self. Dark circles colored the skin beneath her eyes, and her face showed signs of extreme exhaustion. What really told him something was off, though, was the state of her nails. They were bitten down to practically nothing.

Emily only bit her nails to nothing when she experienced extreme stress.

Leaning back in his chair, Aaron observed his ex-wife through the glass of his office. She sat down tiredly, sipping from her coffee as she did. He arched a brow and rose to his feet. His concern for her was starting to overpower him, and he tried shrugging it away. She wouldn't share it with him anyway, even if he pressed and pressured. Emily only got this way when she was depressed about something from her past. And her past was something she never shared about.

It was part of why they split.

But even though he wanted to shake it away, he couldn't. His desire to protect her was too strong. Rising to his feet, he went to the door and opened it. Going to the railing, he looked into the bullpen and called to Emily. "Prentiss?" She looked up at him and nodded. She remained quiet, however. "Can I speak to you?"

Not switching facial expressions, Emily rose to her feet and went up to his office. She followed him inside, and he closed the door behind them. "What's up?" she asked. Even her voice sounded hoarse with tiredness.

Aaron crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against this desk. Emily sat patiently in the seat opposite him. "I wanted to see what's going on," he said. "You look like you got run over by a truck. Noah even said something to me about it."

Emily snorted. "Please, Aaron," she snapped. "I doubt you've seen Noah long enough this week for him to have a conversation with you about me supposedly looking like roadkill."

Her terse behavior right off the bat at his concern shocked him. Raising his hands up in surrender, Aaron shook his head. "Okay, I don't know where that's coming from," he said, "but I'm just worried about you. You've bitten your nails down to nothing, and I know that's what you do when you're nervous. So what is it?"

Emily's eyes went wide, and she glared at him. "Nothing is wrong," she snapped. "I'm tired, that's all. We've been getting run ragged, and I haven't gotten to see my son as much as I want to. Sorry my nails aren't perfectly manicured, though. I didn't realize unsubs gave a shit about that."

Aaron stared at her blankly, his emotions raging within himself. Confusion clouded his mind, and he shook his head. "Emily, if you need to take some time or —" he began gently.

She rose to her feet and glared at him. "Don't even go there, Aaron!" she snarled. "I'm not your wife anymore. You don't need to pretend to be concerned for me."

Anger sprouted in Aaron, and he frowned at her. "I _do _get to be concerned for you," he argued. "Not only is our son worried about you, but you're on my team. Do I need to put you on a mandatory suspension so you can take better care of yourself?"

Turning on her heel, Emily stalked towards the door. "You don't need to worry about me, _sir_," she said with a dark scowl. "I'm just fine." Then she was gone, nothing but the scent of her perfume lingering. Instead of returning to her desk, she left the bullpen, storming past Derek and Penelope as they were entering. He blinked several times, unsure of what to do now.

"What's going on with Prentiss?" a voice asked, distracting Aaron from watching Emily.

He turned and looked to find Rossi standing in the door. Aaron shook his head and shrugged, returning to behind his desk. "I have no idea," he remarked. "But even Noah is noticing something is going on. I tried to talk to her about it — I even offered her time off — but she's not interested."

Rossi closed the door and entered to sit across from Aaron. "Well, you were married to her for two years," he said. "And you even told me that what led to your divorce was you two never told each other anything."

"Well, yeah," Aaron said, leaning back in his chair. "She hasn't told me anything about her life before we met. I know she traveled a lot as a child because her mother was an ambassador, but aside from that, she hasn't told me anything."

"The CIA will do that to a person," Rossi commented. "Something must have happened to her that she didn't want anyone finding out about."

"I'm positive that's what happened," Aaron replied, his eyes drifting to the bullpen to search for Emily again. Instead, all he found was Morgan and Reid listening to something Garcia was saying, all three of them laughing animatedly as she gestured her point with her hands. JJ walked up behind them and joined in, but there was still no sign of Emily. "She just refuses to tell me anything."

Rossi snickered. "Maybe _you _could start with telling her you're still in love with her," he joked.

Aaron shot him a look. "I'm _not _still in love with her," he insisted, his voice weak. He knew it wasn't true; he most certainly _was _in love with Emily.

"Methinks thou doth protest too much, Aaron," Rossi quipped. When Aaron continued his fierce glare, Rossi laughed and added, "Don't worry, my friend. We'll figure out how to win her back after our briefing."

Aaron rose to his feet and picked up his tablet. "No…we _won't_," he said. "We'll just go to the briefing and hope the case we get won't keep me away from Noah too long. I promised him that if I was home tonight I'd take him to get pizza."

Rossi clapped him on the back and nodded. "Let's see what we can do so you can see your son tonight. And if you need me to, I can set up a night for us to go out on the town…I'll be your wingman!" He flashed a wolfish, conspiratorial grin at Aaron as they made their way out of the office and toward the round table room.

Shooting Rossi a look, Aaron pushed into the round table room where the majority of the team had gathered. Reid and JJ were chatting and telling a joke, and Morgan and Garcia were talking quietly with one another.

"Anyone know where Prentiss is?" Aaron asked as he pulled his seat out to sit. He would rather someone else bring Emily in if she didn't show up of her own accord. After their morning encounter, he didn't think she wanted to interact much more with him.

"I'm right here," she said as she burst in through the back door of the round table room. Her expression was guarded, but she sat down beside Garcia. She gave Garcia a tight smile and a nod. "What do we have?"

Garcia rose to her feet and motioned to the screen. "Alright, gang," she chirped, accepting the remote from Morgan's grasp. She clicked a button that moved several photos on the screen. "We don't have a case right now, but we've got a couple of local PDs who want a consultation. Hotch and I talked to them earlier, and we're splitting you guys up and sending you out. If we get a case that you have to fly out for, I'll call you all. But until then, you're just making calls or going to the local stations."

Hotch nodded. "Alright," he said. "Everyone go where Garcia tells you. I'm headed with Reid to Glendale." He rose to his feet and motioned for Reid to join him. As he started for the door, he caught sight of Emily in his peripheral vision.

She was biting her nails again.

XXXXX

"Thank God we have a lunch break…I mean it's a lunch break that's happening at six in the evening, but still!" Penelope crowed as she and Derek walked into their favorite local café. "I'm _starving_!" She giggled as she realized her voice was a tad too loud and people were starting to stare at her. Derek laughed and kissed her temple. Even if she was embarrassed she had been too loud, he thought it was adorable and what made her unique.

Over the past weeks, Derek continued to dream of his best friend. Sex with Savannah slowed to nonexistent as he began to take care of each of his hard-ons in the shower. It meant extra time in the morning to clean the walls of the stall, but it all became worth it when he came thinking about being buried deep inside Penelope.

"Well then," he began as the waitress started leading them to a table. "Let's get some food in your belly to recharge those batteries." He winked. "My treat."

Her eyes brightened. "Really?" she asked. "For me?" She batted her eyelashes and tapped her chin with her lime green painted index finger. "Why thank you, cocoa ball."

He grinned at her as they sat down. Before he planted himself in his seat though, he caught a glimpse of her cleavage and swallowed hard. Sweat even began to pool on the back of his neck, and he resisted the urge to lean over to get a better view of the valley between her breasts.

In the end, he pushed back his desires. Penelope opened her menu and began perusing it for what she wanted to eat, so he took the opportunity to study her. He watched as she bit her dusky rose lip, and her eyes moved back and forth across the page. His heart sped up, his eyes unblinking as he stared at her flawless features. And her lips…the lips he wanted so badly to lean over and taste.

Derek knew he should have felt bad about ogling his best friend. She was engaged, he was a married man. This was wrong.

Strangely, though, he didn't give a shit.

Penelope shut her menu finally and looked up to meet his eyes. When she noticed he was staring at her, she gave a nervous laugh and averted her eyes. "Everything okay, Morgan?" she asked. She lifted her water glass to her lips and took a sip as she waited expectantly for an answer.

After a tense moment, he nodded. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I'm okay. Just tired. Savannah's been riding me about how much she thinks my mother is 'poisoning' me against the idea of having kids. She doesn't seem to get that I just don't want them."

Penelope leaned forward and scrutinized him carefully. "Why is it you don't want kids again?" she pressed. "I mean, it's like —"

Before she could continue, their waiter approached the table. "Hi there!" she said brightly. "I'm Carly, I'll be your server today. Can I get you lovely couple a bottle of wine or something?" She winked at them both.

Eyes widening, Penelope shook her head at the waitress. "No, no!" she said, waving her hands. "No, we're not together. He's married, I'm engaged, but not to each other!"

Carly backtracked. "Oh, I apologize," she said. "I just assumed. Well, anyway, can I get you a drink to start you off?"

Derek nodded and ordered a bottle of Shiraz. When the waitress disappeared with their drink order, Penelope resumed leaning forward so she could observe him again. Once more, his eyes were drawn to her breasts, and his mouth began to water.

Clearing her throat, Penelope forced him to look up at her. "Now, as I was saying," she went on, looking him in the eyes. "_Why _in the hell do you not want kids? You and Savannah would have adorable babies!"

As hard as he tried, Derek couldn't imagine a child with his wife. A picture of one never entered his mind. He shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "No, we wouldn't, Baby Girl," he admitted. "I would be a horrible father. I'm away from home all the time, Savannah works a helluva a lot…hell, she's working all night tonight! We wouldn't be able to have a good home for a kid."

Penelope rolled her eyes and pointed at him. "Don't give me that crap!" she growled. "You would be a great dad! You would love your kids more than anyone on the planet. And that would make you the perfect father."

He arched a brow at her. "I don't see you working towards a kid either, Garcia," he pointed out.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Someday…" she muttered. "Maybe."

Derek sighed and shook his head. They sat in silence for a long moment, both of them sipping their waters. Their wine came and they ordered, but neither of them were able to muster up much of a smile at the waitress. "How did we end up here, Baby Girl?" he asked after they placed their orders and the waitress was gone.

"End up where?" Penelope asked, confused.

He sputtered a laugh and sipped his wine before responding. "_Here_," he went on. "In these relationships. People are supposed to want kids right now. People are supposed to be madly in love with their spouses." He watched her try to form a protesting remark, but he shook his head and wagged his finger at her. "Tut, tut, sweetness. We both know you and Sam ain't got nothin' you wanna write home about…just like Savannah and I have a crummy marriage."

Penelope relented and sighed. "Ugh, I don't know," she mumbled, taking a gulp of her wine. "I guess we did sort of settle, didn't we? We don't have any passion whatsoever."

"I'll drink to that," Derek laughed, raising his glass and clinking it with Penelope's.

Sighing sadly, Penelope set down her glass and shook her head. A sorrowful expression covered her face and she murmured, "But they're so in love with us. Or at least, Savannah is with _you_. I could be totally wrong about Sam, but your wife really loves you."

"Still…I can't seem to give her what she wants," he grumbled. "I'm…trying to work it out with her, though." The last sentence was a lie; he wasn't trying to work out anything. All he was doing was jacking off in the shower, thinking about the woman — the woman whose voluptuous curves were invading his brain and his dreams every waking and sleeping hour — sitting across from him rather than his wife.

"Maybe this is why we need kids," Penelope mused, swirling the wine in her glass. "We need people to shove all our love on since we can't seem to muster it for our wife and husband-to-be."

Derek merely chuckled. "Maybe so."

XXXXX

After their dinner was done and the check was paid, Derek and Penelope meandered out of the restaurant and back down the sidewalk toward their cars. He sighed as they walked along and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry," he murmured as they made their way to the parking lot.

A laugh bubbled from her lips, and a frown formed on her face. "For what?" she asked.

"That you aren't happy," he said, halting them in the middle of the sidewalk. He tapped her nose and gave her a sad smile. "I wish there was something I could do to help."

Penelope huffed, but she smiled at him and took his hand. "Baby Boy, just being here for me is enough to help," she whispered. "And you know what? We could easily make this better. You were in love with Savannah once…maybe it could happen again."

He laughed bitterly. "I'm not so sure anymore," he admitted. "I don't know if I ever loved her."

Giving him a sad look, Penelope leaned up and kissed his cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck to hug him. Derek hugged her tightly back, inhaling deeply so he could smell the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo. Or maybe it was her perfume. Either way, he wanted to drown in her all night long. Her soft body against his began to arouse him, and he coughed reluctantly before she could feel his erection pressing against her hips.

"I - I have to go!" he muttered, his eyes falling on her lips when he backed away. With one last look at her confused expression, he released her from his embrace and hurried off to his car before she could see how aroused he was.


	5. Fires That Can't Be Quenched

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you all so much for your reviews. Both story lines are about to get a little more intense, so I hope you'll enjoy it. This is another Emily and Penelope POV one, and it's a massive one, so bear with me for the length.**

Two days after Hotch expressed his concerns to Emily, the team was readying themselves to go to the middle of nowhere in Montana. Three bodies had been found in the mountains, and due to the gruesome nature of the corpses, the BAU's assistance was needed.

Emily drove along down the street to her son's elementary school to drop him off before she left, watching the road carefully. She didn't know where Doyle could be, but she had no doubt he would try to taunt her before he actually came after her. He would wait until the perfect moment to come after her.

"Mom?" Noah asked from the back seat.

Emily broke out of her vigilant daze and looked up in her rearview mirror so she could see Noah. She smiled as she looked back at the road. "What's up, buddy?" she asked, flipping her turn signal on.

"What happens to the bad guys you catch after you get them?" he asked,

Laughing, Emily shook her head. Her son had asked questions about what she and Aaron did for a living, but usually about the cars or the guns. Never had he asked about the unsubs. "Why do you ask?"

"I just wanna know," he chirped, looking out the window. "Dad won't tell me anything when I ask him, so I thought I'd ask you. You're both really hard to ask questions, but I think you'll be easier because you actually smile."

Emily would have burst out laughing if she hadn't been so tired from worrying about Doyle. Her son was turning out to be quite the profiler, even at just six years old.

"Well…" she finally answered. "It depends on the bad guy. Most of the time, they go to prison where they're locked up for the rest of their lives. Sometimes though, they're very sick and that sickness keeps them from knowing what they did was wrong. So we send them to get help."

"Does the help work for them?" Noah asked.

She shrugged. "Sometimes," she said. "Sometimes not. It all depends on the person." She pulled up to the curb outside of Noah's school and put the car into park. Mother and son unbuckled their seats and stepped out of the car. All the while, her eyes flicked around the street, making sure no suspicious or out of place characters were in the way. She couldn't take any chances that Doyle was already making a move, even this soon after his escape from international prison. Emily went around so she was standing beside Noah on the curb, and she knelt down so she could wrap her arms around him.

"I love you, buddy," she murmured, holding him close. She moved backwards and moved some of his hair out of his face. Managing a genuine smile for the first time in a long time, she added, "You have a good day at school, okay?"

Noah grinned at her and gave her a thumbs up. "You got it, Mom," he said, a bright light entering his eyes. He turned and ran up the sidewalk toward the school where he joined a friend to go inside. Emily rose to her feet and watched as her son disappeared into his school. Her heart thumped in her chest Just as Noah disappeared within the building, her phone rang with a text, jerking her back to reality. She glanced down at it and sighed. It was Penelope.

_We're waiting on you, Black-Haired Beauty!_

Sliding her phone back into her pocket, Emily went to the driver's side of the car and got in. Noah was safe for now, of this she was sure. If Doyle were to make a move, he would make sure she knew he was setting something in motion first.

That was just his style.

XXXXX

"Alright, everyone get some rest," Aaron ordered as the team arrived at the motel they were staying at in Montana for the duration of their case. Emily rubbed her forehead and yawned. The day consisted of nothing but their flight and preliminary investigations, and so far they had nothing to even begin giving a profile. "We'll start fresh in the morning."

Everyone nodded their agreement, exhausted from their trekking through the mountains to the crime scene. After distributing keys, everyone split up and separated. Emily slid off in silence, not wanting to linger any longer. She felt distracted all day long, and she knew it had to do with Ian Doyle and his lack of appearance. Maybe he'd lost his touch and had no idea how to find her.

She could only pray.

As she closed the door to her hotel room behind her, her cellphone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and frowned at the number. Yet another name from her past. There could only be on reason why this was happening.

"Tsia?" she breathed as she answered the call.

"You sound shaken," Tsia commented in greeting. There was a smile in her voice.

Emily plopped down on the end of her bed and rolled her eyes. She kicked her boots off and shook her head, even though Tsia couldn't see it. "You wouldn't be calling me if you didn't know what was going on," she shot back, surprised at the ease of their conversation despite not having spoken in years. "And I have every right to be shaken, for your information. One of the worst criminals I've put away found his way out of jail, and he could come after my son."

"This is why I called you," Tsia added. "Emily, Ian Doyle didn't know who you really were. As far as he knows, Lauren Reynolds is dead. He has no reason to believe otherwise."

_If only she knew the truth_, Emily thought. _But only Sean and I know why Doyle has a reason to find me_.

"Tsia, if you had a child, you wouldn't think that saying something simple like 'Lauren Reynolds is dead' cuts it," Emily remarked, leaning back on the bed so she was staring at the ceiling. "Doyle was always smart…he hates me enough to want to come after me."

Her friend sighed on the other end of the line. "Sweetie, I want you to try and relax," Tsia advised. "I know you want to protect your family, but I really don't think there's anything to protect them from. If there is, Clyde would get the rest of us in motion to stop Doyle. So I want you to slow down. Focus on work, focus on your son, maybe get back together with your ex if you have time…" There was a hint of suggestion in her tone, and Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'll try to follow your advice," Emily sighed. "Except for that last part. I'm not getting back together with Aaron." She snorted. "I wouldn't do that even if fire started raining from the sky at the same time the zombie apocalypse started."

Tsia laughed. "He's awfully handsome for you to be saying that so surely."

"Well, I know that. I _did _marry him, after all…a long time ago," Emily murmured, rubbing her face. As she was about to add more, a knock sounded from her door, and she sat upright. Her hand instinctively reached for her gun. After weeks of worrying about Doyle, her blood raced at any slight sound, however irrational it may have been.

She didn't respond to the knock immediately, and a voice called inside to her. "Prentiss? Prentiss, can I come in to talk to you?"

It was Aaron. Emily breathed an audible sigh of relief, and her fingers unclenched around the hilt of her gun.

Tsia heard Emily's sigh and clucked her tongue. "What? Thinking about Aaron?" she teased. It was clear she was doing all she could to lighten Emily's mood, even resorting to more girly-type antics to keep her on the phone.

"No," Emily muttered, rising to her feet to go to the door. "I have to go. I'll call you later…or if you hear anything about…" She paused. She couldn't manage to say Doyle's name aloud with Aaron just on the other side of the paper thin door. "Just let me know."

Without waiting for a farewell from her friend, Emily hung up her phone call and pocketed her cell. She went to the door and opened it. Aaron stood in the doorframe, his suit jacket gone and his tie loosened around his neck. He stared at her for a moment before nodding to her hotel room.

"What do you want, Hotch?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer. There were no doubts in her mind that she would be listening to a lecture about having to take a break after this case.

"May I come in?" he asked, impatient.

She observed him momentarily before moving aside for him to enter. Closing the door behind them, Emily turned to face Aaron and crossed her arms over her chest. She forced some semblance of pleasantness into her voice as she spoke. "What can I do for you?" she repeated.

Aaron sighed. "Emily, what is going _on_?" he asked. "You've been distracted all day, and I know you didn't want me asking a few days ago, but I'm going to anyway. Noah asked me again what was going on with you last night before I dropped him off back at your house."

"What the hell do you mean I've 'been distracted all day?'" she demanded. "I've been doing my job just fine. I was a little late to the meeting this morning, but that was because I dropped Noah off at school and traffic was bad."

He shook his head. "You really don't see what I'm getting at right now, do you?" An unusual snort came from his mouth, and he scowled. "I'm worried about you because _Noah _is worried about you. He sees what I'm seeing, and that's that you're stressed as hell."

_Why couldn't Noah's hidden talent be…well, anything other than reading behavior! _she thought.

"What pushed you?" he went on. He moved closer to her and took her hands, causing her eyes to go wide. "You know you can ask us for help." He lowered his voice. "Or just me. We get along pretty well for being divorced I'd say."

Emily froze at the tender look in his eyes. Where had this come from? Her heart beat faster in her chest, and she averted her eyes. His touch burned her hands in a pleasant way, and she closed her eyes to attempt to regain her composure. Fire ripped through her, and she tried stopping herself from reacting to it.

Opening her eyes, she saw Aaron still standing in front of her, staring into her eyes. Her eyes fell on his lips, and nothing inside her could quell the desire she felt every time she looked at him. With trembling hands, she grabbed him by his tie and yanked him forward, unable to keep herself from him.

The second her lips touched his, she felt complete. Something clicked in her. She forced his lips open and slid her tongue in with his, stroking it against his. Shock didn't even set in for him; he moved right in motion with her. His fingers tangled in her hair, and she moaned against his lips. She wanted to drown in him.

Aaron kept her close, his right hand sliding beneath her shirt to cup her breast while his other hand cupped the back of her neck. He drank deeply from her, causing her to push back against him so she rammed him into the wall. Her fingers fumbled with the tie at his neck, but before she could rip the tie off, her mind cleared. She broke the kiss, pushing herself away from Aaron.

Rubbing her forehead, Emily looked up at him finally. He was breathing just as heavily as she was, and he looked equally as shocked.

"I - I'm sorry," she whispered. Aaron tried to go to her once more, but she shook her head. "No. No, Aaron, just go. I don't know why I did that, but I did…and I would take it back."

Hurt struck his face, but it disappeared just as quickly. With a sigh, he strode toward the door and opened it. He paused momentarily, but without another word, he left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Sitting down on the bed, Emily put her head in her hands and clenched her fists. Damn it, why had she done that? _Why_? Growling angrily at herself, she flopped back on her bed once more and stared up at the ceiling until she drifted off into dreamland.

XXXXX

_She stared at the marble sink in her bathroom, fingers trembling and heart racing. Looking up into the mirror, she stared at her shaken expression with fear. This couldn't be happening to her. It couldn't. This was temporary, just an assignment, and here she'd gotten herself involved in a much worse and personal way. Tears burned in the back of her eyes, and her eyes fell back onto the sink._

"_My love?"_

_She didn't look up to the owner of the voice, and then a pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Scruff touched her neck, followed by warm lips._

_Fear tickled her spine once more, but she kept it contained._

"_Lauren…Lauren, look at me," he coaxed, urging her to turn around. She did. Her eyes lifted to his, and she forced a smile. Ian Doyle's eyes pierced into hers. "What is it?" He cupped her cheek._

_Shaking her head, she turned her face and kissed his palm. "It's nothing," she murmured. "Nothing at all."_

_Ian kissed her forehead. "I may be…busy with my work, but I'm not so preoccupied that I can't see you're worried about something. You can't hide it from me."_

_Wrapping her arms around his neck, Lauren pressed her lips directly to his. "And I would never try."_

_Later that night, as Ian slept peacefully in their large, spacious bed, Lauren slid from his arms. Going to her closet, she entered it soundlessly and went to the back of it. Digging into a pile of cashmere sweaters, she produced a cell phone and held it tightly in her grasp. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and exited the room._

_Making her way outside, she entered the gardens and stood beneath the light of the moon. With her shaking hands, she pressed in a number and put the phone to her ears._

"_Hello?" Sean answered in a yawn._

"_Sean," she whispered, tears burning in the back of her eyes._

_His voice brightened instantly. "Emily? Emily, what is it? You wouldn't be calling if this weren't an emergency."_

_The dam finally broke, and tears streamed from her eyes. "Sean…I'm pregnant."_

XXXXX

Penelope wiped her tears with a kleenex as she sat in her office. Four days ago, the team went to Montana to solve a gruesome series of murders. Four hours ago, Morgan got shot in the gut with a shotgun by the unsub while trying to apprehend him. His vest protected him from being injured with more than horrible bruises, but he hadn't needed to be as reckless has he had been.

When the team arrived home, most of them left immediately. She didn't know if Derek had left or not, but so far he had yet to come see her. Did she want to see him, though? She would likely yell at him with as mad as she was.

"Stupid hero," she mumbled.

As she rose to her feet, a knock sounded from the door. Her door sat locked — she hadn't wanted to be bothered — so she went across the room to open it. When she opened it, Derek stood, clutching his stomach. He looked at her with a wounded expression, and she glared at him.

"What do you want?" she snapped. "I don't think I should talk to you right now. I'm pissed as hell at you."

He arched a brow at her. "Can I come in, Bab —"

"I'm not in the mood for you to call me that!"

Sighing, he remained in place and waited for her to cave, like he knew she would. Tears filling her eyes once more, she allowed him inside and shut the door behind them. As soon as he did, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "How could you do that?" she demanded. "How could you not _think_ before you went after that unsub?" Derek tried to go to her, but she put her hand out. She shook her head and went on. "You didn't think of any of the people who care about you! You didn't think of the team, you didn't think of Fran, you didn't think about Savannah. You didn't…" She swallowed hard, tears trickling down her face. "You didn't think about…" She bent her head.

This time when Derek crossed the room, she didn't refuse his presence. He tilted her chin upwards to look at him. His large hand cupped her cheek, and she closed her eyes before breathing shakily. The touch of his hand burned against her face. "I didn't think about what?" he murmured, voice husky.

"You didn't think about _me_!" she croaked. "You're my best friend…what am I supposed to do if something happens to you?"

Derek stared at her. Their eyes formed a bridge of a connection, and a fire sparked within her that she didn't think she would be able to quell. Her lungs burned with each breath she took, and there was only one thing she could think of to stop it.

Reaching forward, she grabbed Derek by the back of the neck and yanked him forward. Their lips crashed together, and he kissed her back without a moment's hesitation. His hands roamed the expanse of her body, squeezing her breasts so that she moaned against his lips. Her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, and he lifted her off her feet. She hooked her legs around his waist. He carried her to her desk and seated her on it.

Their lips never broke apart.

Derek slid his hands beneath her skirt, playing with the band of her underwear. A rush of excitement shot up her spine, and each stroke of his tongue brought her one step closer to the ecstasy her life had been lacking for so long. Moisture pooled in her panties, heated arousal trickling down her thighs.

Penelope released his neck. She moved her hands to slide beneath his t-shirt, pulling it up over his chest so he could yank it off. Moving back, she looked into his eyes. Onyx gazed back at her, barely hooded desire shining back at her.

_We can't do this_, she thought. _We have to stop._

Instead, she tore her own shirt off so her fire-engine red bra was visible. His eyes grew wide, and she smirked. "You like these?" she growled, pulling his head closer to her breasts.

"You know I do," he murmured. His mouth descended to the valley between her breasts, but before he kissed her lily white skin, he used his large hands and ripped the front of her bra apart. It was then she realized what she'd been seeing all these weeks: desire. He wanted her, and his feelings were now unleashed. Their passionless relationships fueled their desire for one another, creating the hunger between them.

Penelope's breasts sat in front of him, her nipples pointed upwards with her fierce arousal. He leaned forward and suckled on one of her nipples. Her head fell backwards, and she moaned softly. His hardness pressed against her inner thigh. She shuddered with need.

"_Derek_," she moaned, arching her back. He kept suckling at her neck, and she grabbed his face. His pupils were dark and his breathing frenzied. She kissed him once more before whispering, "Inside me…I want you inside me."

Derek nodded and pushed her skirt up. Penelope's fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, but her quest to push his pants down to his ankles was halted when he ripped her panties and stuck a finger inside her. She gasped, pulling him even closer so her breasts were pressed against his chest. He released her, causing her to drift backwards against her desk. His pants fell to his ankles, and he pulled her back into his arms.

The sight of his erection sent another gush of wetness down her thighs. Her eyes went wide, and she grasped his length, relishing the hardness and the heat of him. Derek gritted his teeth as she ran her hand up and down his cock.

"_Jesus Christ_!" he growled. Leaning closer to her, he kissed her soundly, devouring her with the liquid fire of his tongue. Penelope moaned once more and ran her lips down his jaw and to his throat. His teeth grasped her earlobe, and he nibbled on it, his goatee tickling her sensitive skin. "Spread your legs wider, Baby."

Penelope gladly obliged. Seconds later, he pressed into her in one fell swoop. Both of them cried out in ecstasy. Sweat pooled between their bodies, and she clutched Derek's shoulders tightly as he plunged into her swiftly. Pleasure burst through her with each thrust. Derek's grip on her hips and his lips on the tender flesh of her neck shot sparks through her skin, charging her like a battery getting struck by lightning.

She felt…she felt _alive_.

"Faster," she urged him. "Go faster!"

"Anything," he grunted, increasing the speed of his thrusts so she was moaning against his neck and the desk was shaking beneath them.

Inhaling sharply, she gasped. "Oh, God!" she cried. "Oh, God Derek, I'm about to come!"

Gritting his teeth, Derek reached between their sweaty bodies and pressed hard on her clit. She gasped sharply as she began to come in crippling shock waves that took away her ability to function. Seconds later, she felt his release in thick pulsing spurts within her.

Clutching one another, Penelope buried her face against his sweat covered neck and breathed heavily. Neither of them said a word. But despite her silence, Penelope's brain raced with thoughts. She and Derek just cheated on their significant others, each of them resting against one another with weak limbs. Even with her lust and feeling of being sated, guilt started to lick at her as Sam and Savannah entered her mind.

_What have I done?_ she thought, her blood running cold, even as she leaned against the fiery hot body of her best friend.

XXXXX

"Hey sweetie!" Sam boomed as Penelope entered her apartment.

The sound of his sweet, hopeful voice made her avert her eyes as she kicked her shoes off at the door. After fleeing the BAU building following her passionate sex with Derek in her office, she forced herself to go to the nearest Walgreens to buy a cheap body spray to cover the smell of sex on her. Hopefully, Sam would be unable to tell the difference between this and the perfume she kept at home.

And even more hopefully he would be unable to tell she was having a difficult time walking.

Looking up at Sam finally, Penelope gave him a fake smile and waved. "Hey," she croaked. She looked at the candlelight on the table and the bottle of wine he opened. She frowned. "What's all this for?"

He grinned. "I have an announcement to make," he said excitedly, handing a wine glass over to her.

"Oh?" she asked, arching a brow. She took the wine, hoping her hand wouldn't shake too much and thus show her guilt. "What's the announcement?"

Sam strode forward and kissed her. "I'm going on a business trip," he said. "It's a rather lengthy one, and it's in Europe, but the bonus I'm getting is going to be enough for us to take an even better honeymoon." He grinned. "We'll have to move the wedding back a few months, but after this we can have the greatest trip of your life…of _our_ life."

Penelope sipped her wine and stared at him. He looked down at her with such a tender expression that her betrayal stabbed even deeper into her heart. How could she have done this? Swallowing hard, she leaned up and pecked her lips.

"I'll miss you so much," she whispered, not sure if she believed her own words.


	6. No Regrets - Freesia Delivery

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! I hope you all had a nice holiday. Here****'****s the next installment with the guys****' ****POVs. It****'****s shorter, but that****'****s mostly because the girls have a much more compelling story for me to write I think. Enjoy :)**

The elevator ride up to the BAU the next morning filled Derek's gut with an anxiety-laced pile of rot. He could scarcely believe what he had done just the night before. When he first began realizing his marriage to Savannah would fizzle out like a dying candle, he figured they would eventually grow apart to a mutual feeling of separation.

Never in a million years did he think he would cheat on his wife though, least of all with his best friend.

He thought back to the previous evening as the ride up the elevator crawled by at an agonizing pace.

"_Where__'__ve you been?__" __Savannah demanded as Derek walked in from their garage. She stared at him incredulously. __"__We were supposed to have dinner together because we would both be home! You didn__'__t call or text or anything!__"_

_Derek gulped, grappling within himself for an answer. What could he say? _Hey honey, I'm home…I just cheated on you with my best friend. How was your day? _ Instead, he went with a different route, one that would surely not land him in trouble._

_He chose to lie._

_Going forward to stand in front of Savannah, he cupped her cheek. __"I__'__m sorry," __he mumbled, pecking her lips. He lifted his t-shirt up __— __the t-shirt he hoped wouldn__'__t reek of the sex he__'__d just had with Penelope __— __and showed her the bandages that covered his bruises from being shot in the gut. __"__I got shot on the case. I had to go get prescriptions for pain meds and the traffic was horrible.__"_

_Savannah paled. __"Oh, God!" __she murmured. __"__Why - why didn__'__t you call and tell me?__"_

_He shook his head. __"__I didn__'__t want you to worry,__" __he lied._

_No…__he just didn__'__t want her to know she wasn__'__t the first one he thought of telling._

_His wife wrapped her arms around him. __"I__'__m so glad you__'__re safe," __she whispered against his chest. __"__I don'__t know what I__'__d do without you, Derek.__"_

Not even the clear gleams of love and affection in his wife's eyes could change the facts, though. Finally giving in to his desire for Penelope only intensified the passion that had sprouted up within him once more. Gasoline on his internal fire couldn't have reignited his craving for life more.

So much for a one time quickie with Penelope getting everything out of his system. He wanted her again…and again…and again. The way she touched him while they were in the pool of their passions made him believe she wanted him again, too.

When the elevators dinged open, Derek exited with hasty steps, nearly tripping over himself. The hall was quiet, and he took the opportunity to dash to Penelope's office before anyone could stop him. At her office door, he lifted his fist to knock.

"Yeah, yeah," a voice said behind him. "I'll call you at lunch."

Derek whirled around and found Penelope to be walking toward the door. She dug around in her bag, presumably looking for her keys, and her phone was up to her ear. His eyes went wide, and when she looked up, her eyes grew to the size of doll heads. His heart began to race, and the craving he felt for her started to consume him once more.

"Umm," she stammered, returning her attention to the phone. "Yeah…yeah, no I just dropped…" He watched as she attempted to form words. "I'll call you back, okay? I love you, Sam." Then she hung up, dropping the phone into her bag.

He gulped. Their eyes remained glued to one another, neither of them blinking. Derek held his breath as she approached. When she halted in front of him, he cleared his throat. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils, and he forced himself to resist pulling her close for a better sniff.

"Can I…can I talk to you?" he murmured. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He really had to force himself not to yank her into his arms and devour her.

Penelope nodded after a long moment. She still appeared hesitant, but at least she would allow him inside.

Unlocking the door to her office with shaking hands, Penelope motioned for him to follow her inside. She closed the door behind her and set her things down. Wringing her hands together, she turned around to face him. Silence filled the space between them, and Derek fought against his raging itch to go to her. When she didn't say anything and he couldn't find words, he finally stepped closer to her. He rested his hands on her forearms.

"We can't do this," she murmured after the long bought of silence.

He nodded. "I know."

Tears filled her eyes. "Savannah is my friend," she murmured. "I can't believe I did this to her. And Sam…"

"I know," he repeated. He cupped her cheek in his large hand. "But I don't regret it." There was a moment of silence once again. "Do you?"

She scoffed. "Of course I do," she snapped.

Wounded, he dropped his hand from her cheek. As he was turning to go though, her hands shot up and grasped his face. She yanked him back towards her and captured his lips in a kiss. He had no choice but to respond. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her flush against him. His hands moved to caress her breasts, and a small moan filtered out of her throat.

When she broke the kiss, she leaned against him and rested her cheek against his chest. "I do regret it," she whispered.

"Why did you just kiss me again then?" he asked, confused.

Penelope looked up at him once more and kissed him again, her lips barely brushing against his. Nevertheless, it ignited him on fire and made him want her all the more.

"Because part of me doesn't."

And then she pulled him into another kiss and allowed him to lift her onto her desk where they traded fierce kisses back and forth.

XXXXX

_2 Weeks Later_

Aaron's last two weeks consisted of nothing but misery.

Since his kiss with Emily on their case in Montana, he had been unable to think of anything but her. She even took to invading his dreams. He found himself staring aimlessly at her when she wasn't looking. No one seemed to be noticing, least of all Emily.

Distractions seemed to follow her everywhere. She spent hours staring into space, took strange phone calls, looked constantly on edge. He didn't know how to help her.

Even if he knew a way though, she would be unlikely to accept his help.

Glancing out the window of his office, Hotch noticed JJ and Rossi gathered around Reid's desk. They were clearly ready for their briefing, however three of their team were noticeably missing.

Aaron rubbed his forehead, tired. He thanked whatever higher power there was that they had no case. After the last two, he was ready for a night with his son. Keeping track of his team seemed to be getting more difficult by the day. Morgan, while looking less like the zombie he had become over the past few years, seemed constantly distracted and spending more hours at work rather than going home to his wife; Garcia looked like something was tearing at her insides, but he assumed it had to do with Sam being gone on his business trip that would be lasting months.

Then there was Emily.

Sighing, he rose to his feet and gathered his tablet. Time for worrying about the well-being of his team could come later. Exiting his office, he waved his hand to his team. Morgan and Garcia entered the room, and Aaron frowned. Now, they were only missing his ex-wife.

"Anyone seen Prentiss?" Aaron asked. "We've got to start the briefing."

"I'm right here," Emily said as she burst through the doors of the bullpen. She appeared flustered, her cheeks slightly pale and the circles under her eyes were darker. He frowned. "Sorry I'm late. Noah and I both got up late, and the traffic was horrible."

Garcia looked at her with concern and touched Emily's shoulder. "Are you alright?" she murmured softly so that Aaron almost didn't hear it.

Emily nodded to Penelope. "Yeah, I'm fine," she muttered, shaking her coat off and setting it on her desk. "You guys ready to start?"

After the briefing finished and everyone had their assigned case files, they exited to get to work. Morgan and Garcia disappeared to go to their respective offices while the rest of them went to their desks. Aaron watched as Emily sat down tiredly and buried her face in work. Before he disappeared into his office though, someone came into the bullpen carrying a pot of purple flowers. Aaron frowned.

Flowers were not a common delivery in the BAU.

The delivery man looked around. "Emily Prentiss?" he asked.

Emily looked up from her desk, surprised at hearing her name being called so soon after leaving the briefing. Aaron took one look at her expression that crossed her face when she laid eyes on the flowers. Immediately, he knew something had shaken her. He watched as she signed for the flowers.

When she sat down, staring at the flowers with frightened eyes, he tucked his tablet underneath his arm. Going down the steps, he dropped by her desk. She didn't even notice; her gaze never left the flowers.

"Emily?" he asked. He cleared his throat when she didn't respond. "What are those?"

With shaking fingers, her fingers brushed against the purple petals. "They're freesias," she murmured. "Lilac freesias."

Something in her gaze told him this particular flower held significance for her. What though, he didn't know. He touched her shoulder tenderly. She finally looked up at him. Instead of accepting his comfort though, she flinched away from him as if his touch burned her.

"What is it?" he asked, dropping his hand abruptly. He masked his hurt with expertise before she could see how he felt. "Who are those flowers from?"

Jumping to her feet, Emily plastered a smile on her face and grabbed the pot of flowers. "Oh, just from an old friend," she said. "They sent them asking if I would meet up with them."

"You looked really rattled by those," he pressed. "I just want to —"

Emily shook her head and hugged the flower pot to her chest. "I'm, uh…" she interrupted. She took another look at his face and immediately her expression softened. "I'm just feeling a little out of it. I think that's why I woke up late." Aaron tried to speak once more, but she shook her head. "Don't worry about me. Just concentrate on making your night with Noah fun. He really misses you." And then she hurried off, clutching the flowers tightly.

"What was that about?" Reid asked, looking up from his desk. He arched a brow. "Emily seems a little on edge."

_You're telling me, _Aaron thought, bitter.

Rather than voicing what he truly thought, he shook his head and replied, "I have no idea."

XXXXX

_Later That Evening_

"Pizza's here, buddy!" Aaron called to his son after closing the door on the pizza delivery man. He took it into the kitchen and set the box on the table where Noah was finishing up the last few math problems on his homework. Smiling, he opened the pizza box and the aroma of pepperoni and hot cheese filled their nostrils. "How you doing on the homework? Almost done?"

Noah held up his finger to silence his father while he scrawled the last answers on his worksheet. As soon as he dropped the pencil and looked up to smile at his father, his finger of silence turned into a thumbs up.

"All set, Dad!" he chirped. He shoved his homework aside so Aaron could put a plate in front of him.

Aaron dropped a kiss on the top of his son's head. "Good."

When they were both sitting down and food sat on their plates, Noah looked up and frowned at his father. "Dad," he began. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, bud," Aaron said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "What is it?"

Noah sighed heavily, taking a sip of his water before going on. "It's Mom," he said. He looked up to the ceiling and bit his lip. "Well, Mom _again_."

Aaron gulped down his bite of pizza heavily and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Leaning his elbows on the table, he asked, "What's up this time?"

Noah looked up from his pizza. "Well…" he began. "I just don't know what's going on with her. It's like, when we're together, she's there, but she's not. I don't know what to do to make her happy."

_Oh, God_, Aaron thought. _Now this is affecting our son?_

"Well," he told his son. "Your mom has a lot on her plate right now. But you know what?" He arched a brow and waited for Noah's confirmation nod. "Mom loves you more than anyone in the world. There's no one who matters more to her."

"No one?" Noah murmured in wonder. He grinned conspiratorially. "So that means if I ever had a sibling, she would love me best?"

Chuckling, Aaron picked up his slice of pizza once more. Before biting into it, he added, "Buddy, I don't think you have to worry about you having another sibling."

_At least as far as I can tell_, he added silently.


	7. A Bullet In The Brain - Wedding Plans

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, guys :) We've got the girls again for this one. As you can tell, the Emily storyline is going in a different direction from the show. Some of the elements are the same, others are quite different. This particular story has a bit more buildup than some of my previous ones, so hang in there: more details are coming!**

Lilac freesias.

The very sight of them sent tingles up Emily's spine, and they had since she had been taken from Ian Doyle's estate. Ever since four days ago when the flowers were delivered to her at the BAU, she spent every moment keeping both eyes peeled for more signs of Doyle.

So far, all she had pointing to Doyle were the freesias.

_He knows who I am_, Emily thought, nipping at one of her nails as she stared out the window of the BAU jet. _He doesn't really believe I'm dead._

Leaning back in her chair, she watched the scenery pass below. Sleep wasn't going to come to her and they would land shortly, so she took to fretting about her nemesis. There was no telling when he would strike, but he would come. When he did, there would be only one way to stop him.

A bullet in his brain.

After receiving the freesias, Emily called the rest of her former team. During their conversation, Tsia seemed shocked at the revelation.

"_He sent you flowers?" Tsia exclaimed. "Are you _positive _they were from him?"_

_Emily ran her hand through her hair and breathed deeply. She forced her voice to stay calm and silent so Noah wouldn't hear her from his bedroom. "I'm positive, Tsia," she murmured. "They were the same flowers that grew on his estate when I was undercover with him. I tended to them in the gardens."_

"_If he knows who you are, why hasn't he come after you?" Tsia asked. "Why hasn't he come after any of us? If he knows who you are, he'll know about Jeremy, Clyde, Sean, and I!"_

"_Maybe not," Emily said, biting her thumb nail. "You never met him. I'm the only one who knew him personally. I posed as his lover, I almost married him, I had his —" She halted her speech abruptly before she could say more and confuse her friend with a twelve year old secret._

_Tsia breathed deeply. "I'm going to talk to Jeremy," she said. "We may be in France, but we can at least get in touch with some people who might be able to get us some information on how Doyle found you."_

"_It has to be a mole." Emily continued biting her nail, and suddenly a small burst of pain came from her finger. Wincing, she looked down at her hand and saw a small trail of blood trickling down her skin. She'd bitten her finger so hard in her anxiety to the point of breaking skin._

"_If there's a mole, you can bet we'll find him," Tsia hissed. "You just focus on keeping your son safe right now. We'll call you if we find anything out."_

Even if it had been only three days since hearing from Tsia, Emily hoped she would get word from her former team soon. She was in no mood for playing a game of cat and mouse with Ian Doyle.

The plane started its descent. As it went down through the clouds and the lights of DC became visible, Emily looked away from the window. Her eyes fell upon her hand where she bit herself. The injury looked well on its way to healing, but nevertheless remained red and swollen. She wrung her hands together to quell their shaking. Hotch and Noah were both taking notice to her behavior, and she didn't want them getting hurt.

Biting her nails until they bled and quivering in her own skin wasn't the way to throw them off her trail.

"Em?" a voice murmured.

Emily looked up from her hands to see JJ looking at her with droopy eyes. Her friend smiled at her, sleep heavy in her eyes and still weighing down her lids.

"Yeah?" Emily shot JJ a nervous smile in return.

"Did you get any sleep?" JJ asked, sitting up. "You look exhausted."

Snorting, Emily averted her eyes. She glanced around the jet at the rest of her teammates. They all slept soundly around them. "I…I got an hour or so," she mumbled.

JJ shot her a doubtful look. "Is there something going on?" she asked, her voice soft and airy. "You haven't seemed like yourself lately."

"Oh, God," Emily groaned. "Not you, too!" She rubbed her temples tiredly. "Are you jumping on the same bandwagon as Aaron for being concerned about my wellbeing?"

With a sigh, JJ sat up in her chair and leaned her elbows on the table. "See, this is what I'm talking about," she insisted. "You're on edge constantly, you're snapping at people, you come into work with dark circles under your eyes. You know, if there's anything going on, you can tell us." She gave Emily a comforting smile. "We're a support system. And if it's just a rough time with emotions, I know Garcia would _love _to have a girls night."

Emily couldn't even manage to crack a smile. She stared at JJ, feeling empty inside. Her friend sat before her, an offer to help her with anything going wrong, and she refused to move. No matter how badly she wanted their help, their support, she couldn't.

Not if she wanted to protect them and her son. To keep them safe, they needed to remain in the dark.

"I'm okay, Jayje," she whispered as the plane got closer to the ground. "I'm just…really tired."

_Remember: you're protecting all of them, Prentiss, _she told herself. _You're protecting Aaron and Noah. You're protecting —_

"Alright," JJ said, skeptically. "We're here when you need us. Remember that."

XXXXX

As Emily packed her bag up for the evening before going home to her sun, she started for the door of the bullpen. JJ's words still rang in her head, but Emily shook them away.

_You can't get their help,_ she rehearsed to herself. _Keep them safe. Keep them _all _safe._

"Prentiss?"

Startled, Emily looked in the direction of the voice and found Aaron coming toward her. Paperwork was tucked under his arm, and he looked ready to sit himself down for several hours. She arched a brow.

"Yeah?" she asked.

He halted in front of her. His expression remained guarded. She couldn't blame him; her behavior toward him of late had been nothing but chilly. Not to mention the kiss which confused him as much, if not more, than her.

"We need to get together at some point to talk about Noah's birthday party," he said. "His friends' mothers have called me since they were having trouble getting ahold of her. They want to know details, and all we've done is set a date."

Emily stared at him, her mouth clamped shut. Had she really missed all the calls of her son's friends?

When she didn't respond, he went on. "You do have time, don't you?" he asked.

Swallowing hard, she nodded. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Of course. I've actually wanted to coordinate with you about presents. I already picked up a few, and I just want to make sure we don't get the same things twice over. Garcia also found one that she — and I quote — 'called dibs on' to get for him."

Shaking his head and smirking in amusement, Aaron added, "Okay, that's fine. We can get together at my apartment. I can have him stay overnight at a friend's house while we plan. I'm sure Sam Clemmons' mom would be alright with it."

Emily's lips quirked up in a sour smile. The mother Aaron was talking about was Beth Clemmons, a woman who divorced her husband. Never wanting to admit it was jealousy she felt toward the woman, Emily always blamed her dislike for Beth on her personality being too cheery. "Isn't that the one you dated for a few months?" she asked. "Beth was her name?"

Clearing his throat, Aaron nodded. "Yeah," he muttered. "I dated her for a little while."

"I'm sure she'd _love _to have Noah over then," Emily snapped, hoping snark would cover her jealousy.

Aaron shot her a hard, annoyed stare. "Yeah," he said. "So…I'll just do that." Giving her another odd look, he nodded once more. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

She merely nodded back to him before turning to leave the bullpen. As she made her way to the elevator on exhausted feet, she ran smack into Garcia. Penelope stared at her teal zebra striped shoes, her face pale. Rarely did Penelope Garcia lack color in her cheeks.

Frowning, Emily walked up to her friend and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Garcia?" she asked.

Penelope's eyes shot upwards as she jumped. She glanced at Emily and shot her a wry smile. "Hey, Prentiss," she murmured. "What's up?"

Emily smirked and arched a brow. "You're awfully lackluster tonight," she remarked, standing beside Penelope. "What's going on?" Before Penelope responded, the elevator bell rang. The doors opened, and they stepped inside together. Emily pressed the button to the garage level. When the doors closed once more and she glanced at her friend again, Penelope's eyes lay on her shoes once more. Touching Garcia's shoulder again, Emily repeated her question. "Penelope? What's wrong?"

Glancing up at Emily once more, Penelope gave a sharp, fake grin. "Oh, I'm fine," she said, waving her hand in dismissal. "I — I just miss Sam. He's been gone too long." She sighed. "I'd better buckle down because it will be a long time before I see him again."

Something about her expression registered strange in Emily's mind, but the moment her phone rang, she became unconcerned with all around her. She dug hastily into her bag to grab her phone. She needed to answer it if it were Tsia with any of her promised information.

However, the moment she put the phone to her ear, her heart rate slowed. It was only the nanny. That would be an easy enough call to take.

XXXXX

"_Mom! Mom, look at how far away Dad is from me!" Noah hollered with happiness as he and Aaron stood in the yard of their home. The day was nothing short of idyllic with the sun shining down on their skins as they tossed the ball around and a soft wind rustling the trees and the hair on their brows._

_Emily lounged on the front porch of their house, a smile resting upon her lips as she watched her husband and son toss a baseball back and forth. She raised her hand to wave at them._

"_Looking good, boys!" she called back. "But don't forget that your brother is coming out to play, too." As if on cue, the sound of a door opening came from behind her. She turned around to face the door to their home, hoping to see her other child standing there to join them._

_And he was. However, the smile fell from Emily's face instantly._

_Standing behind her son, a wide grin covering his face, stood Ian Doyle. His broad hands rested on her son's shoulders, and his smile sent shivers down her spine. Her son remained still, with his blue eyes staring at her blankly and his blonde curls tucked behind his ears. He trembled with fear beneath Doyle's hands, but stayed silent._

_Suddenly, Emily's warm day turned frigid as a blizzard-ridden night. The sun disappeared, and the gentle wind picked up to what felt like hurricane speeds._

"_No!" she gasped, barely able to get her voice loud enough to be heard over the roaring wind. "No, he was safe!"_

_Doyle shook his head, his devilish smile still lighting up his face. "None of them were safe," he growled. "Not with _you_ in their lives."_

_Whirling around, Emily choked on a scream. Both Aaron and Noah lay on the ground right in front of the porch. The color in their skins was gone, and their eyes stared upwards at nothing, completely lifeless._

_Tears streamed down her face as she fell to her knees at the sight of her family. "No!" she screeched, running her hands through her hair as she yanked at it by the roots. She looked up at Doyle once more, and to her horror, her other child lay at his feet. He looked exactly the way Aaron and Noah did. Her voice grew to an inhuman cry of despair._

"_I told you, Lauren," Doyle told her, stepping over the body of her son to get closer to her. "None of them were safe. No one you love is safe."_

Sitting upright in bed, Emily breathed in deep gasps. Her sheets tangled around her legs, and sweat pooled on her forehead. The dream she'd awoken from caused her to feel sick and shaken. Doyle's face as she stared at the lifeless bodies of her family stayed glued to the back of her eyelids. When she blinked, his devilish grin remained there.

Falling back against her pillows, she wiped her cheeks that were sticky with hot tears. With a sniffle, Emily hugged her comforter to her chest. She wanted the dream to disappear from her memory, but it didn't go away.

_How long until this stops? _she thought to herself, tears continuing to roll down her cheeks.

She knew the answer to her question, though. It wouldn't end until Ian Doyle had a bullet in his brain.

XXXXX

Sitting on her couch, Penelope stared up at the ceiling of her apartment. Her heart raced, and her skin tingled with anticipation. Derek's face filled her mind as she closed her eyes. The imagined feel of his hands coursing up her thighs lit her blood stream on fire. Her mouth watered at the memory of how he tasted, and she sighed.

_I can't want him like this_, she scolded herself.

Of course, this scolding was hardly the first time she told herself she could not feel attracted to Derek. Two weeks ago, she and Morgan had sex in her office. Since then, she refused to allow herself to do any more than wrap her arms around him and kiss the life out of him.

So far, she'd kissed him enough to end dozens of lifetimes.

Her warnings to herself and her guilt didn't stand a chance of halting her desires, though. She wanted Derek again…and again…and again.

As her mind raced with thoughts of Derek's hands on her breasts, her cell phone rang to draw her out of her trance. Her eyes snapped open, and she rubbed her temples before picking up her phone.

She gulped. The caller ID read _Savannah Morgan._

Hesitantly, she brought her phone to her ear and answered. "Hello?" she croaked.

"Penelope!" Savannah chirped. "How are you?"

_Oh, fine,_ Penelope thought. _Just thinking about how much I want your husband to take me on my desk again._

Out loud, she laughed. "I'm fine," she responded. "I'm just a little tired is all. It was a long day." Her laughter turned nervous, and she prayed her guilt wouldn't shine through. No way in hell did she want to ruin Savannah's life by having her _discover _her husband's infidelity. "How're you?"

"I'm good!" Savannah replied. "I'm just spending some time looking at wedding planning things since Derek isn't gonna be home for a little while. When'd you say Sam would be back? I've found a few other possibilities for ceremony locations since we're moving it up several months."

Glancing at the clock, Penelope frowned. It was almost eight in the evening, and the BAU's day had ended at an unusual seven. Derek should have been home with his wife by now.

"Did Derek say what he was up to?" Penelope asked, curious. Hurriedly, she added, "I just ask because we got done earlier."

"Oh, I know," Savannah responded, flippant and carefree. "He said that your Section Chief had assigned him a separate project he may be working on for a few weeks. So until then, I decided I'd work on wedding stuff."

Penelope frowned. She had no idea what "separate project" Derek had going on right now. What the hell could he possibly be doing if he wasn't at work? "Oh…" Penelope murmured. "Well…tell me about which are your favorites. I can call Sam and tell him about whatever sounds best."

"Excellent!" Savannah said.

As Savannah prattled on about wedding locations, Penelope took notes and listened. Only half her heart was in it, though. The other part of her couldn't stop feeling guilty for speaking to the woman whose husband she'd just slept with. Her insides squirmed and boiled with discomfort. This was a _friend _she was speaking with on the phone, and she betrayed that friendship in one of the worst ways possible. Tears filled her eyes as Savannah continued speaking, and gradually Penelope's focus did drift from the conversation and toward the pit in her gut.

_How could I do this to her_? she thought.

"So which is your favorite?"

Penelope blinked several times when Savannah asked her question. Had she listened to enough to know which was her favorite? "Well…" she mumbled. "Umm, I guess I —"

Before she could finish her jumbled , a sharp rap sounded from her front door. She sat up and frowned. Who the hell could be knocking right now?

"Penelope, is something wrong?" Savannah asked, concerned. "You got all quiet."

Rising to her feet, Penelope responded to Savannah, "I've got someone at the door. Can I call you back?"

"Oh, of course," Savannah said. "Call me back whenever you can. Let me know what Sam says, too. Have a good night, sweetheart!"

"Bye, Savannah," Penelope said, absentminded. She tossed her phone onto the couch and started to the door. When she swung the door open, Derek stood before her. His hands rested in his pockets, and he gazed directly at her with dark eyes. She stared at him, her heart immediately taking off at a rabbit's pace.

So _this _was his "separate project" he told Savannah about.

They continued staring at one another, unmoving. Penelope's body temperature started to rise. She couldn't escape the look in his eyes, the look so full of heated desire that it made her tremble with longing. Her eyes fell on his lips, and she wanted nothing more than to have those lips devour her, suckle on her neck.

An internal battle raged within her over what she wanted and what she should do. Sam came to mind, but so did the feeling of being utterly consumed by Derek. She remembered the earthy taste of his mouth and the primal energy flowing between their bodies. She remembered it, and she wanted more.

In the end, her desires beat out her reservations. She wanted him too much.

Stepping forward, Penelope grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him inside. She crashed their lips together and sighed against his mouth as his tongue thrust its way in against hers. Using his foot, he kicked the door closed behind them. He backed her into her couch, and they collapsed in a heap on the cushions. His kisses burned into her skin, making her moan. She grabbed his hands and forced him to grasp her breasts. From their previous encounters in their offices, she remembered loving how he touched her there.

Derek understood exactly what she wanted and played her like a fiddle. Pushing him backwards and off of her, she sat up to grab the hem of his shirt so she could pull it up over his shoulders. As soon as his shirt was off and she could see his bare chest, she dove for him. Her lips fell to the fiery heat of his sternum, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His body, his scent made it impossible for her to function.

All she needed was him. Him and him alone.

His fingers tangled in her hair, and she growled when he gave a gentle tug of it. Swinging her leg over his lap, she straddled his hips and buried her face against against his neck. She nibbled on his skin, running her hands up and down his chest. Next, she slid her hand beneath his belt to trace her nails just at the top of his groin.

"God, Baby Girl," he hissed, digging his fingers into her back. "Touch me."

She let out a devilish cackle. "Patience is a virtue," she hummed. "You have to wait until I'm ready for that."

Derek laughed. "Hell if I do," he growled, stopping to leap to his feet so she was in his arms. She yelped as he carried her to her bedroom, laying her on the bed while he kissed her. Standing back, he stared at her as he unbuckled his belt. His eyes coasted up and down her still dressed body, and she knew he wanted her, even with her t-shirt and sweatpants on.

And that made her feel goddamn beautiful.

No one, not even the man she said yes to marrying, looked at her the way Derek Morgan looked at her.

Penelope sat up on her elbows and gave him a husky look before removing her own shirt. All she wore beneath her tank top was a camisole, and her breasts didn't have the lift they had when first he took of her shirt. For a split second, worry filled her heart that he wouldn't find her as desirable.

But nothing in his gaze told her he cared. His desire remained unchanged. He leaned forward and ripped the shirt from her body, baring her breasts to him. His hands cupped both of them, and his lips descended to one of her pointed nipples. A gasp escaped her mouth as his teeth grazed the sensitive nipples. She pushed his head deeper into her chest, demanding more.

"Morgan!" she cried as he went on devouring her. "Don't stop! Christ, don't stop!"

He looked up at her and caressed her cheek with an unnatural gentleness. "Never," he murmured, kissing her again. Then he dove in again for another kiss, and she knew nothing else mattered to him at that moment.

Nothing else mattered to her either. Everything disappeared but the feel of his skin and the heat of his passion.

Pulling him closer, she allowed him to slide her out of sweatpants. Nothing felt better to her. As soon as her pants got thrown to the ground, he dug his fingers into her panties and stroked her wet and ready center. She moaned and arched her back, letting him continue to massage her. Without hesitation, she began to ride his hand in her search for her completion.

"I'm so close to coming," she breathed to him. "Please let me come, Derek."

Abruptly, though, he halted and removed his hand from her panties. She glared at him, gaping as he stepped back and started to shuck his pants. When he gave her a wicked grin, she knew he had something in store. After he kicked his pants away and his thick erection stood in front of her, he crawled atop her and positioned himself between her thighs.

"We're coming together," he murmured, kissing down her jawline. Then he pushed inside her, causing both of them to groan. He arched his back and gritted his teeth. "Shit, you're tight!"

Penelope laughed. "I'm surprised I can take all you," she said, wrapping her legs around his hips.

Derek started to move within her, rocking his hips slowly. That puzzled her; this was no dirty quickie, this wasn't fucking. This was almost as if he was making love to her.

But soon it didn't matter to her. Soon, all she cared about became the slow buildup to one fantastic orgasm. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades, digging deep trenches. "Oh, hell," she repeated over and over. "I'm so close! Keep it up, Baby!"

He didn't respond verbally; all he did was kiss her and thrust deeper into her so their hips touched bone to bone. Suddenly, her heart started to race. She knew a climax neared, and she knew this would be a strong one.

"You ready to come, Baby?" Derek growled in her ear.

"Yes!" she cried in response. "Make me come!"

Crashing their lips together once more, he pushed twice more into her so her walls clenched around him. She came in an intense, hurricane-wind strong climax that shook her to her very core. A scream escaped her lips, and moments later his own orgasm ripped spilled into her. He collapsed beside her and pulled her close to his side. His hand ran up and down her upper arm, and they lay there quietly. The silence of the room covered them like a sheet, and this time, Penelope didn't allow any thoughts to invade her head.

She merely let the heat of his body consume her and quell her guilt…at least for a little while.


	8. Close Call - Frustrations

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Here's the next one of this tale. As many of you have noted to me, Emily, Derek, and Penelope are digging themselves into holes with Hotch sort of helpless on the sideline. Have no fear though! They'll get through it. Here's another with the guys' POVs. Thank you so much for the reviews :) Your encouragement keeps me typing!**

"We really can't do this."

Penelope's whisper in his ear, despite her words, sent a shiver of excitement up Derek's spine. The sound of her voice had always soothed him, but now that their relationship was something different, it caused a deeper reaction that shook him to the core. He didn't know how all of this could start from just a dream deep in the night, but the lustful feelings from that first fantasy were only getting stronger.

He ran the tips of his fingers in patterns across Penelope's upper arm and kissed the top of her head. Her hand rested on his sternum as she leaned into his side. They lay beneath the sheets in Penelope's dimly lit room, both of them staring at the ceiling.

"We've done it twice," he pointed out, his voice a soft murmur. His fingers played with the tips of her blonde hair. Somehow, the remote possibility that she was having second thoughts about this made him quake with fear. Unconsciously, he pulled her closer to him. He cradled the supple warmth of her flesh in his arms as he rolled onto his side to face her.

She turned over so she looked him directly in the eyes. Her fingers stroked the lines of his goatee, and she let out a shaky sigh. Pulling her closer, he bestowed a soft kiss on her lips. Again, the raspberry mint of her mouth drew him into a trap. Her lips had become his very own garden of Eden that he damn well didn't want to get kicked out of.

"Don't you feel guilty at all?" she murmured, breaking their kiss. She rested her forehead against his, cupping his cheek. "You told me you didn't regret it after the first time."

Derek shook his head, brushing his lips against her palm. "I feel guilty for not feeling _more _guilty," he admitted. Truthfully, he thought about what he was doing to his wife quite often. He hated the fact what he was doing would hurt her. It wasn't Savannah's fault he felt this way about Penelope, and he knew his wife would be destroyed by something like infidelity. She was too soft for hurt this horrible.

But if he and Penelope kept this a secret until they could get whatever _this_ was out of their systems, they could avoid hurting Sam and Savannah.

"Why did this happen now?" she wondered aloud. "Why are we feeling this way ten years _after _we met?"

Derek didn't say anything. That was a good question. Why _did_ they start sleeping together so late in their friendship? He didn't have an answer for her. Hell, he didn't have an answer for himself.

All he could comprehend was the intense heat of her body, and his desire to keep her in his arms.

"I don't know," he answered. "I just know that I can't stop thinking about you…about _this_." One of his hands moved to rest on her hip. She closed her eyes, pinching them shut as if to exorcise a thought from her brain.

"You can't say that," she scolded.

He shook his head and pulled her even tighter to his chest. Her breasts crushed up against him, pointed nipples budding against his chest. "What we're doing? It makes me feel more alive than anything else in my life for the past few years."

Her eyes widened. Color drained from her cheeks. "You especially can't say _that_!" she gasped, shocked. "What we've done? It's so, so wrong! We're the worst type of people for doing this."

Derek kissed her once more and moved some of her tousled hair from her face. "Maybe what we need is this right now," he murmured. "Maybe if we take care of…whatever _this _is, we can fall back in love with Sam and Savannah."

Penelope looked at him, skeptical. She arched a brow and sighed. "I hope you're right," she whispered. Then she pecked his lips and wrapped her arm around his waist.

Ten minutes later, she was kissing him goodbye as he left her apartment.

XXXXX

The next day at noon Derek went to Hotch's office to deliver files. He strode with confidence to his unit chief's office with a folder full of finished case reports. Knocking on the door, he waited for Hotch's muffled answer for him to come in.

"Hey, Hotch," Derek said, opening the door. "I've got these reports finished for you." He stepped inside the office and shut the door behind him. Getting a closer look at Hotch as he dropped his folder on the desk, he frowned.

Hotch looked deeply perturbed about something, and his face sat in a severe frown. He appeared unfazed by Derek getting his work to him. Derek arched an expressive brow and waved his hand in front of his boss' face. Blinking several times, Hotch finally looked up at him.

"Yeah?" Hotch mumbled, reaching across the desk to pick up Derek's folder. "What's up?"

Derek smirked. "What's up with you?" he asked, plopping down in a chair to face Hotch. "You've been acting weird lately. What's going on?" He snickered and widened his grin. "You got lady troubles?"

Hotch just stared at him. "That would entail I _have _a lady," he muttered. Coughing uncomfortably, he shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

"Bullshit, man," Derek scoffed. "I don't have to be your friend and a profiler to know something's bothering you. So spill." Leaning back in his seat, Derek scrutinized Hotch and waited for an answer.

Rolling his eyes, Hotch gave in with reluctance. "I'm worried about Prentiss," he admitted. "She's been acting strange."

Derek huffed. "I'll say," he grunted. "The other day when we were coming back from the case, she snapped at me for taking the last cup of coffee. I gave in and gave it to her." Seeing Hotch remain silent, though, Derek stopped. "But it's not stuff like snipping about coffee that's worrying you."

Hotch shook his head. "No," he murmured, his eyes flicking to a photo on his desk. "It isn't." He sighed. "It's Em — I mean, _Prentiss_' behavior about everything."

His quick suppression of saying Emily's name didn't surprise Derek. Both Hotch and Prentiss consistently corrected themselves before saying one another's names. It only strengthened the whole team's suspicions that the two harbored feelings for each other as well. Nevertheless, he knew exactly what his unit chief was talking about with Prentiss. She was acting the strangest Derek had ever seen her act.

"I know what you mean," Derek said. "She's been acting strange for awhile now. Any idea what's going on with her?"

"Why would I know?" Hotch asked, his voice sharp.

Derek shrugged. "Well, you were married to her," he pointed out. "You've got a kid with her. I'd say that means you would know her pretty well."

"Morgan, our marriage wasn't exactly a sharing one," Hotch replied. "Our problem was she never told me anything about who she was before she came back to the States. All I know is she was CIA. Imagine how you would feel not knowing anything about Savannah's life, about her refusing to tell you anything about herself."

Keeping his face neutral, Derek merely nodded. He knew about Savannah's life, every part of it. But none of it thrilled him. He didn't find it exciting. Thinking that made him feel worse about his current predicament than he already did, and made him wonder why he'd chosen to marry her.

"Well, I guess the only thing to do now is find a way to help her," he said. "If she'll listen to anyone, she'll listen to you. I don't doubt that."

Hotch shook his head and frowned. "I do," he muttered. "But maybe you're right. I can always try talking to her. We're getting together to talk about Noah's birthday party tonight. I'll see what she'll say this time."

Rising to his feet once more, Derek nodded. "Let me know if I can help," he said. "I can try talking to her, too. We could even have Garcia try it." He tried giving Hotch a wry smile, but it didn't register with the unit chief. Sighing, Derek nodded and left. Hotch never gave much indication of what he had going through his head, and right now was no exception. Derek chose not to push it, deciding to return to his office instead.

When he got to his office door, he halted abruptly. He hadn't closed his blinds before leaving. Pushing open the door, he grinned wolfishly. Sitting on his desk, her long legs crossed in front of her, sat Penelope. She stared at him with an intense gleam in her eyes. He knew exactly why she was here.

Immediately, Derek shut his door firmly behind him, locking it in the process. Striding forward, he went to stand in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, smiling in the process.

"Is it your lunch break?" he teased.

Penelope wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward to press her lips to his neck. One of her hands slid up the back of his neck to trace patterns on the back of his head.

"You could call it that," she whispered, nibbling gently on his earlobe. Tingles raced through his skin, and he tightened his hold on her. Gently, the tips of her fingers played with the hem of his shirt, and he growled. Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled the smell of her fruity and tangy perfume.

"Mmm, I like the sound of that, Baby Girl," he said, arching his back when her nails began to trace up his skin.

She leaned back from his neck and looked him in the eyes. "I know you do," she said with a coy smile.

He grinned and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. Their tongues danced in a fierce competition for dominance, and she hooked one of her legs around his thigh. She moaned against his mouth, tightening her grip on his shoulders. Derek gripped her bottom, lifting her off her feet and carrying her to the couch on the other side of his office. They fell backwards, her on top of him and straddling his hips. She fiddled with the top buttons of his shirt, and he arched his back. The feel of her nails tracing lines on his collarbone drove him even more crazy. He wanted to pay her back for each and every touch she gave him. His hands crawled up beneath her skirt, stroking her soft thighs.

"God, keep touching me," she hissed, wrapping herself tighter around him. He grinned and inched his hands up further. She arched her back and bit her lip to contain her cry of ecstasy as he stroked the front of her panties. "Morgan!"

"Kiss me, Baby," he whispered, pulling her back toward him as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

She smiled and obliged him, kissing him directly on the lips. Gyrating her hips, he resisted the urge to groan as he grew harder beneath her. As they traded their kisses back and forth, a jiggling on the locked door distracted them.

"Derek? Derek, are you in there?"

Both Derek and Penelope froze in their tracks at the sound of Savannah's voice. Penelope's eyes grew wide. She looked at Derek with panic and hopped off his lap.

"Just a second, Savannah!" Derek called, rising to his feet and rebuttoning his shirt. "I'll be right out."

"What do we do?" Penelope hissed, adjusting her skirt.

Derek hurried to his desk to grab his phone and his jacket from the back of his chair. Going back to stand in front of Penelope, he cupped her cheek and kissed her softly. She grasped his wrist, kissing him back.

"Go to the corner," he whispered. "I'll leave and keep her out of the room. You leave after I'm gone."

She nodded, a look of sadness covering her face.

Reluctantly, Derek walked to the door and opened it. He grinned widely at his wife. She arched a brow at him as he shut his door swiftly behind him.

"Why was the door locked?" she asked as he slipped his arms into his jacket.

He shrugged and held out his hand to take hers. "Oh, I was just getting some work done uninterrupted," he lied seamlessly. "I wanted to be sure we could go get some lunch together." He grinned. "I was actually on my way to get you at the hospital, but you're here now."

Savannah smiled and squeezed his hand as they went to the elevators. "Well, I just couldn't wait to tell you about this!" she said. "It's a new treatment that I…"

Her voice trailed off from Derek's ears. He nodded along blankly with what she said, but the words didn't register in his ears. What did register, though, was the sight of Penelope leaving his office, just as the elevator doors closed.

XXXXX

Aaron went to his apartment door when the bell rang. Emily took care of dropping Noah off at his friend's house after school. This would be her coming to make party plans. Sure enough, through the keyhole, he saw Emily standing and waiting for entrance. Sighing, he pulled the door open to greet her.

"Hello, Emily," he said, stepping aside to allow her in.

She nodded and came in without a word. He took the opportunity to observe her closer than when he was at work. The circles beneath her eyes grew pronounced with each passing day, and her body language remained tense, like she expected an attack to happen at any second. When she didn't respond, he shrugged and motioned for her to follow him into his living room.

Emily removed her jacket and slung it over the side of the sofa. "Do you have anything to drink?" she asked, looking around the living room nervously. "My mouth is still dry from the sugary sweetness of Beth saying how much she wants to hear from you." She glanced up at Aaron and smirked. "You found a real winner with her, Hotch."

Gritting his teeth, Aaron glared at her. "I told you," he grumbled. "I haven't been seeing Beth, and frankly, I don't plan to see her anymore." Starting for the kitchen, he added, "What do you want to drink?"

"Just a water," she mumbled in reply.

Aaron went to his kitchen and produced a bottled water from his fridge. When he went back to the living room and handed her the bottle, he noticed her nails bitten down to the skin. Tiny pink and red scars dotted the thumb nails where she bit through the skin at one point. He frowned.

"Emily," he murmured as she sat down. His expression softened. He sat down beside her and sighed. "Emily, before we get started with Noah's party…can I ask you —"

Rolling her eyes, she rubbed her forehead and glared at him. "Hotch, I don't want to get into this now. We just need to plan our son's party so I can go home and attempt to get some sleep."

"See, _this _is why I want to figure out what's going on with you!" he grumbled. "You've clearly got something going on, and trying to hide it isn't working for you. Hell, Morgan was in my office this morning asking what was going on with you!"

Emily shot a fierce glare up at him from her seat on the couch. "Can we just focus on planning this party?" she snapped. "I don't have time to debate with you that I'm just sleep deprived."

"Damn it, Emily!" Aaron shouted. "_Everyone _is worried about you, including our son. I'm starting to worry if this is going to affect how you are with Noah."

Leaping to her feet, Emily shoved her finger into his chest. "No!" she hissed. "You don't get to question my parenting, especially when yours is nothing to write home about!"

Her words stung like he'd been stabbed with a red hot poker. Keeping his emotions in check, he intensified his glare. "Don't lecture me then if you don't want me going after you. I'm just going to say it: you are a danger to Noah when you're like this. Does that not matter for you?"

He regretted his words immediately. He knew Emily loved their son more than any other person in the world, and to ask her something like what he just had was the worst form of insult.

Fury clouded her face. Raising her hand, she slapped him swiftly across the face. "How dare you?" she thundered. "Noah is the most important thing in my life. Don't ever question that!"

Aaron shook his head, averting his eyes. "I'm sor —"

Emily charged on. "How could you say that?" she cried. "How could you even think that? I would do anything for my son. I would die for him. So whatever you think is going on with me, shove it up your ass and forget about it!"

Both of them stared at one another, neither of them uttering another word. Their eyes stayed locked on one another's. Fire shone behind Emily's gaze, and Aaron could tell she couldn't stop the onslaught of fiery anger she felt. He saw what he too felt. Everything flowing through him tasted of searing frustration and confusion. Emily's clear dismissal of his concerns and denial of her blatant difficulties with whatever it was she was dealing with only strengthened his emotions.

But even if he was pissed as hell at her, he couldn't help but acknowledge his feelings for her. Even blazing mad at her, he still couldn't stop his love from seeping back through him. He tried staying put, tried to keep himself rooted to the ground, but it was to no avail. His eyes rested on her mouth, moving slowly to the swelling of her breasts as she breathed angrily.

He lost all control of himself.

Stepping forward, he pulled her toward him by the hips. His mouth captured her lips in a fiery kiss.

Immediately, she responded by kissing him back. Her lips tasted angry and incredible against his. He couldn't resist her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and yanked him closer for better access to his mouth. His tongue stroked against hers, and he noticed the taste of mint in her mouth. When her nails latched into his back, a shiver of pure electricity shot up his spine.

Angrily, she pushed him back onto the couch so she could straddle his hips. Her lips seared onto his skin, and he tossed his head back with a groan. "Emily," he murmured, running his hands through her hair.

Emily didn't say anything; she kept trailing kisses along his jawline. Her lips returned to his, and she moaned when his hands cupped her breasts and squeezed. All he wanted against his skin was hers. She moaned against his mouth. The sound alone caused him to yank her t-shirt upwards so he could remove it. She wore a simple chocolate brown bra, and his fingers crept beneath the cups to pinch her nipples.

"Aaron!" she moaned, hands going to cup the back of his neck.

The sound of his name on her lips made his cock strain harder against his pants. He let her take command of him, making him a puddle of goo in her grasp. Rising to his feet, he cradled her against his body and strode to his bedroom. They kissed the whole way there. When they got to the bed, he let himself fall backward so she was once again on top of him.

"You need to get out of your pants," she growled, nibbling on his earlobe. "_Now_."

He nodded his acquiescence and allowed her to fumble with his belt buckle. Lifting his hips, he pushed her off his hips so he could kick his pants off. He pulled his shirt off before sliding back onto the bed to straddle her waist. Her hand slid beneath the waistband of his boxers to grasp his length. The aggressive gesture caused him to groan.

"God, Emily!" he hissed as her hand circled up and down his cock.

Emily glared up at him and removed her hand so she could pull her pants down and slide out of them. She kicked them to the side and spread her legs to give him better access to her.

Years had passed since Aaron gazed at Emily's creamy thighs. He looked into her eyes, dark orbs alight with ferocity, and another thrill of excitement ran through him. The sight of her only made him harder. Leaning down, he massaged her thighs and kissed her soft flesh.

Neither of them spoke a word as he pulled her underwear down her legs. When he tossed them aside, he started to kiss his way up her thigh. She sighed and tangled her fingers in his hair as his mouth got closer to her core. He could smell her arousal. Wet heat reached his lips, and he saw that her juices had started to trickle down her thighs. He wanted to go slowly, but his desires started to take over.

Unable to stop himself, he began suckling on her center, relishing the taste of her. The sounds of her moans filled his ears and drove him onward. His tongue flicked back and forth over her core. She gasped loudly, her fingers tightening in his dark hair.

"Aaron!" she cried.

He continued in his rhythm, recognizing and remembering that Emily's quickening of breath as the sign her climax was near. Hoping to give her the strongest orgasm possible, he waited until she started to scream to slide his tongue inside her. The moment he did, a screech of pleasure erupted from her throat. A flood of wetness from her core followed and coated his tongue.

Rising to his feet, Aaron crawled back onto the bed. Emily lay on her back, breathing heavily. She seemed out of air, desperately trying to fill her lungs oxygen once more. The moment he tried to straddle her hips, she jumped into action. She pushed him backward so he lay flat on his back.

"I get to be on top," she hissed, straddling him.

Aaron didn't object as she slid down onto his erection.

They groaned simultaneously when she was fully seated astride him. Emily began riding him, rocking her hips. Her bra was still on, and he wrapped his arms around her to unhook it, freeing her breasts. The puckering of her nipples thrilled him, and he grasped her hips.

No woman made Aaron feel the way Emily did during sex. Something about the way their eyes connected while making love always sent him into a frenzy that lit his blood stream on fire. She had a way of holding his hands when she sat atop him, and now was no exception. Her nails dug into the skin of his hands, but it excited him all the same.

All the sudden, she slowed her hips down. It struck him like a semi all the same, though. He groaned as she slid up and down his cock. Sliding his free hand between their sweat-slicked bodies, he stroked her center, starting a consistent rhythm that made her toss her head up and arch her back.

Aaron was even less verbal during sex than out of the bedroom, but he couldn't contain his deep groan of pleasure when he began to come in thick spurts within her. Above him, Emily's eyes closed and remained shut as she let out a sharp gasp. When she opened her eyes, she stared back down at him. Their eyes glued together, and they gazed at each other unblinking.

Lifting his hand up, Aaron brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. He looked at her and swore he saw tears shimmering in her eyes. But one blink of his eyes, and that feeling faded away. Without a sound, she fell forward against his chest. Her head rested beneath his chin, allowing him to inhale the scent of her shampoo. He wanted to stay like this for the rest of eternity, wrapped around her without possibility of escape.

He wanted to stay awake, to preserve this moment as long as he could.

Gradually though, his eyes began to flutter shut, and he couldn't save himself from sleep.


	9. Memories - Spending the Night

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, everyone :) I'm thrilled to see you're enjoying it. We've got the girls' POVs now, and this is a MAJOR Emily one. Leave a review if you want, and I hope you like this one.**

She felt warm, as if she were surrounded by sun rays. Her eyes remained closed, but she still felt all the comfort in the world. She wanted to stay like this forever, never moving so she could just soak in heat all day like a lizard on a desert rock.

With what felt like a smile dancing on her face, Emily's eyes began to flutter open. As sleep started to drift away and her vision became clearer, her smile reformed into a frown. She didn't recognize her surroundings. These walls were a different color than her bedroom, and the sheets didn't have the same feel as the ones on her bed.

At first she couldn't remember what the hell happened that led her to this bed.

After blinking at the wall for several minutes, the memories came flooding back in waves. The plan to work on Noah's birthday party with Aaron, the feel of his hands roaming the expanse of her body, his lips burning into her skin.

Her eyes went wide. As soon as the realization of the night before struck her, a warm body radiated heat behind her. She turned onto her other side ever so slowly. Laying next to her, breathing steadily as he slept on, was Aaron.

With her stomach churning, the room began to close in on her. Her heart started to race. To complement her rabbit-like heart, her head pounded within the confines of her skull.

_What the hell did I do?_ she screamed at herself inside her head.

Quiet as she could, she slid out of the sheets. Her eyes darted around the room in a desperate attempt to find her clothes. Thankfully, they lay on the floor on her side of the bed. Hurriedly, she slid into them, ignoring her bra and underwear. She could stuff those in her purse, and save herself several seconds to get out faster.

However, before she dashed from the room, her eyes fell on Aaron. Her heart began to act up again. This time, though, it was a tearing pain. He remained in his sound slumber, looking peaceful in the early dawn light filtering through the windows.

_I shouldn't have done this_, she thought mournfully. Aaron wouldn't show it — she knew that for a fact — but this would hurt him. On top of everything she'd been putting him through, this would only hurt more.

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She couldn't cry. She put herself in this situation. This was her fault.

Without a single look back at Aaron, Emily tore from the room on silent feet. She reached the living room and grabbed her things so she could hurry from the apartment. As she exited the building and into the chilly morning air, a ringing noise broke through the otherwise peaceful dawn.

Startled, she jumped. When she looked at her purse, she realized it was merely her cell phone ringing. Rolling her eyes at herself, she dug into the bag and retrieved it as she strode her way to her car.

"Hello?" she answered swiftly, sliding into the driver's seat.

"Emily!"

Emily paused for a moment when she heard Tsia's breathless hiss into the phone. "Tsia?" she asked. "Tsia, what's wrong?"

"It's Jeremy," Tsia murmured. Her voice sounded as if she were shielding herself from tears. "He's _dead_!"

Blood going cold, Emily dropped her keys. They jingled on her lap, and her hands started to shake. Jeremy Wolff was on her team when she'd gone undercover to infiltrate Ian Doyle's operation. He and Tsia ended up starting a relationship shortly after the team broke up.

Covering her mouth, Emily held her breath. "He's dead?" she breathed.

"They said he died of natural causes," Tsia said, her voice shaking. "He came back from his morning run and when he got in the shower, he just…he just _collapsed!"_

Emily rubbed her face. Jeremy's death was no accident. This meant Doyle decided to start moving.

"He's moving in on us," Emily murmured.

"How could Doyle have known who he is?" Tsia cried. "How would he have found out?"

Emily shook her head. "It looks like there's a mole," she said. More frantically, she added, "Tsia, I want you to listen to me. I want you to get out of Europe. Come back to the States where you can be safe. You hear me?"

"I hear you," Tsia whispered hoarsely. "I'll get on the first flight I can."

"Good," Emily said. "Stay safe."

Hanging up the phone without waiting for a farewell from Tsia, Emily picked up her keys and started the car. Knuckles going white, she grasped the steering wheel. She had two hours before she needed to pick up Noah from his friend's house. She drove to the nearest coffee shop she could think of and bought a cup of coffee.

As she sat in her car, sipping the searing hot coffee, her thoughts drifted to Ian Doyle. He had chosen to strike slow and meticulous. One member of her former international terrorist hunting team was dead, and he'd chosen to do it a month after his escape from prison.

She knew Doyle. She knew he was doing this to try and scare her. The key to surviving would be to outsmart him. Her biggest concern remained Noah, though. Her insides quivered and quaked at the thought of Doyle going near him.

If Doyle knew who she was, he knew she had Noah. To keep her son safe, she needed to wait for Doyle to show himself. And as soon as he revealed where he was, she would go to him.

_Remember though_, a voice said in the back of her head, _it's not Noah he wants._

With her stomach churning even more, Emily took a long gulp of her coffee. She ignored the burning on her tongue. The worries plaguing her made it impossible to notice her scalded tastebuds. Her mind began to wander, and gradually she found herself falling back into a memory she'd long ago filed away.

"_Boo!"_

_The laughter of a three year old filled the room as Emily pounced behind him. He giggled as Emily lifted him off his feet and kissed the top of his head. She set him back down on his feet and ruffled the blonde curls on the top of his head._

_He turned around and grinned up at her. "When's Daddy coming home?" he asked._

_Emily knelt down in front of him, kissing his cheek. "He'll be home soon, Declan," she murmured. "And when he gets here, we'll all play a game of hide and seek. That sound good?"_

"_Yes!" Declan exclaimed, clapping his small hands together. Giving her a bashful smile, he added, "I love you, Mommy."_

_Smiling, Emily drew her son into her arms and held him tightly. "I love you, too, sweetheart," she whispered._

_Three years ago when she'd discovered her pregnancy, her whole operation with Ian Doyle changed. No longer did she just have to find a way to take his terrorist operation down, but she needed to protect her son, her son who only Sean knew about. Interpol's investigation into Doyle became a much more lengthy process than it originally would have been._

_To keep Declan safe, though, she would spend as many years undercover as she possibly could._

_Of late, Ian was becoming more and more dangerous. His activities with the IRA were getting more destructive, his enemies piling up. If any of them discovered Declan's existence, his life would be in mortal danger. With each passing day, she feared someone would come and snatch her child away from her._

_She needed to get Declan to safety and away from his father who would only place him in harms way._

_She needed to find a way to save her son._

Snapping back to reality, Emily blinked several times at the realization her cheeks were stained with salty tears. She shook her head. Getting caught up with memories had broken the floodgates she'd built up over the years. Doyle's resurfacing put cracks in that dam, and now the memory of the son she lost broke everything completely. She wiped her face to rid herself of the tears, and took a shaky breath.

_Keep it together, Prentiss_, she shouted at herself. _You'll figure out a way to do this…you'll find him._

She would find a way to save her son.

Both of them.

XXXXX

"I had another nightmare about Buford last night," Derek admitted.

Penelope gazed up at him with sadness in her eyes. It was nine in the evening, and most of the team had gone home for the night. Derek and she sat on the couch in his office. She leaned against him, her feet up on the couch. Her head rested against his chest, and she held him around the waist.

This was just like what they did before their affair began. They would sit with one another to talk for hours and admit their darkest fears. It gave them a way to support each other when life became too hard to go through alone. Derek's nightmares came up frequently, and Penelope did all she could to try and ease his pain.

"What happened in it?" she murmured. She knew Derek's nightmares plagued him every few nights. This wasn't the first time she listened to him tell her about the nightmares. He never showed that he had them on the surface, but she'd always been able to tell.

Derek remained quiet for a long moment before taking a deep breath. "He was standing over some kids," he began. "They begged him to stop hurting them. They cried and cried, but it didn't do anything. Then they were dead, and he just…he was just _laughing_. And then he looked up at me, and told me I was next." He shook his head and kissed the top of her head. "I couldn't do anything. It just makes me think that I failed all those kids who he hurt other than me…all because I didn't tell anyone."

Sitting up so she was directly on his lap, Penelope grasped his face and looked him in the eye. "You haven't failed anyone," she told him. "You can't save everyone, Chocolate Mousse." She gave him a soft kiss on his lips, hoping it would loosen his tongue for him to tell her more.

Ashamed, he moved his face away and closed his eyes. "But I knew what he did!" he growled. "I knew he was hurting boys all those years, and I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want anyone knowing about _me_. I was a coward."

She took his hand. "No," she asserted. "You're _not _a coward. Don't even think that. You're the bravest person I know." She smiled. When he gave her an odd smile, but didn't say anything, she giggled nervously. "What? What's that look for?"

With a chuckle, he pecked her lips. "You just make me think, that's all," he murmured.

She arched a brow. "About?" she asked.

He grinned and pulled her up closer to him their lips were a mere few inches apart. Her breath caught in her chest at the abrupt jerking of his arms. The scent of his natural earthy aroma, mixed with faint scent of his cologne, filled her nose. She inhaled deeply, savoring his smell. His lips parted slightly, revealing the perfect teeth she could gaze at without blinking for hours. When his hands grasped her breasts and squeezed, her eyes fluttered shut as she gasped deeply. Her nipples grew hard instantly, and she felt herself growing wet.

"That I can maybe try to be a little easier on myself," he answered.

"That's my job," she teased, tracing the lines of his goatee. "I'm your best friend. I can't let you go through life without giving a pep talk every once in awhile."

He growled low in his throat and started to snake his right hand up her skirt. His hands massaged slowly up her flesh, and as they kissed, a warning light went off in her head. Breaking the kiss, she glanced at the clock and her eyes went wide.

"Derek," she murmured.

He continued trailing his lips down her throat and moving his hands further up her legs to her. "Mmm?" he hummed against the soft flesh of her throat.

"Derek, shouldn't you be getting home?" she asked. "We don't want Savannah —"

His lips left her neck so he could speak. "She's got the night shift tonight," he said, moving so Penelope sat on the couch and he could move to kneel on the floor in front of her.

She arched a brow, but when his eyes met hers, she knew exactly what he was doing. Excited, she moved to the edge of the couch to give him easier access to the warm and wet are between her legs.

Sam performed oral sex on her exactly once in their relationship, and he'd not done it very well. In their affair, Derek had gone down on her every time save for their first hurried lovemaking. And he did it masterfully. He played her like an orchestra, and each time she came after a massive crescendo.

She had asked him why he loved giving it to her so much. His response was simple.

_Baby Girl, you taste so damn good, I don't think I'll ever get enough._

Those words certainly made her feel beautiful.

Pushing her skirt up, Derek kissed the skin just above the band of her underwear. A shiver ran up Penelope's spine, and a breathy sigh escaped her lips. He stroked the front of her center. Though a layer of lacy underwear obstructed his way to her core, his strokes still managed to make her clit tingle with excitement.

Abruptly though, he ripped her thong. The fabric tore without objection, and she forced herself to cover her mouth to keep herself from screaming with excitement. She couldn't believe herself for getting this excited about a torn pair of underwear. Yet here she sat, her heart racing with anticipation.

Derek licked his lips, glancing up at her with hunger before returning his attention to her pussy. His tongue flicked back and forth over her clit, giving her a slow build up to the fabulous orgasm she craved.

"Oh, God!" Penelope cried. Her hands dove for his head, pushing him further between her legs as she waited for him to take her to completion. The sound of her desperation must have gotten to him, and he increased the speed of his tongue. She hoped if she spoke again he might let her come. "So, so close!"

And he did. As soon as she spoke, he halted the flicking of his tongue. His lips clamped down around her core, causing a flush of wetness to flow from her. She gasped. When he looked up from her, a grin on his face and her juices coating his lips, she sighed happily and moved forward from her seat to push him backwards so he fell onto the floor. She straddled his waist with jelly legs and kissed him.

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her back fiercely. As she sat astride him, kissing him and running her hands up his shirt so she stroked his perfectly sculpted abdomen, a strange feeling stirred in her.

She felt…_happy._

Being wrapped in his arms, having his kisses burn imprints into her skin, sneaking around to find their completion…it made her insides stir in a way that made her feel passion once more. She knew as soon as his arms were no longer around her that her overwhelming guilt would encompass her to the point she wanted to cry. But for now, she didn't care.

All that mattered was Derek and the fire he ignited in her.

As they kissed like teenagers in heat on the floor of his office, Penelope's phone _bleep_ed on the desk. Sitting up on Derek's hips, Penelope leaned up to grasp for the phone. He grunted in protest at the loss of her body heat, but made no move to stop her. Moving her tousled hair from her face, Penelope read the text and frowned.

It was from Emily.

_Need your help with something ASAP. Your stuff is in your office, but you're not in here. Can you meet me?_

"Who is it?" Derek asked, reaching up beneath her shirt to touch the skin of her belly.

She sent a reply back to Emily, worried. "It's Prentiss," she murmured, sliding off of Derek and rising to her feet. "She needs my help with something."

Derek, still laying on his back on the floor, frowned as well. "What with? We're all done for the day."

Penelope moved around the room to find her shoes and shrugged. "I have no idea," she said. "But she said _ASAP _in it. I'm gonna go see what's up." She sat down in one of the chairs facing Derek's desk and started doing the straps of her high heels. As she did, Derek got up off the floor and went to stand in front of her. He looked like a wounded puppy dog when she glanced up at him. She smirked. "What?"

Cupping her cheeks, Derek leaned down and kissed her. "Savannah won't be home until tomorrow morning when I leave to come here for my workout," he murmured.

She arched a brow. "So?"

"I want to spend the night with you."

Keeping her face neutral, Penelope blinked at him. First they started sleeping together, now he wanted to spend the night?

He would tire of her sooner than she thought. All the sex they were having, they were bound to get whatever was in their systems out soon.

Biting her lip, she nodded and got to her feet. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll text you when I'm leaving. Use your key to get in."

Derek nodded and kissed her once again, his tongue sliding between her teeth and stroking against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back full-force. She couldn't get enough of him. He filled her brain, sliding into her very essence until he became a part of her.

Had she ever felt this way before, so in tune with someone that they felt as natural as oxygen filling her lungs?

She couldn't think of any time she felt this way.

"I'll see you soon," she whispered, pecking his lips one last time before heading to the door to leave. As soon as she left, shutting the door softly behind her, the all-consuming, gut wrenching feeling of guilt washed over her, just like she expected it would. She walked down the hall and back toward her office. Her heart ripped at the seams as Sam and Savannah entered her mind.

_How can I do this to them_? she thought. _How can Derek do this to his wife_?

An even worse thought entered her mind as she stopped in front of the door to her office.

_I'm the other woman…_

Rubbing her temples, she fought against the war raging in her stomach. She felt green, like she would upchuck whatever food she'd eaten last. She needed to get a grip.

_It's only temporary,_ _Garcia, _she thought to herself. _You won't be the other woman long_.

When she composed herself to her satisfaction, she pushed into her office. Perched on the edge of her desk was Emily. She nibbled on her nails, her gaze trained on the floor. Penelope smiled brightly. "Hey, Em," she said. "What's up?"

Emily finally looked up at her and frowned. "What happened to you?" she asked. "You look like you walked here in a windstorm." She paused. "Your tights are missing, too."

Forcing a smile, Penelope shrugged. "My legs were getting warm," she answered. "And I stepped outside for a bit and some…wind blew my hair all out of whack." She wrung her hands together, praying she seemed convincing enough.

Emily seemed to think nothing was amiss and nodded absentmindedly. "Oh," she said. "Well…" Her voice trailed off. She sighed. "I need your help with something. But…it needs to be between us. No one can know."

Penelope frowned. "Emily, what's wrong?" she asked. "Is this why you've been —"

Holding up her hand, Penelope shook her head fiercely. "No," she snapped. "Just let me tell you what I need, and you can find it. I'm not going to go into details about it. This won't take a night, though. You could be on this for awhile."

Taken aback, Penelope nodded mutely. "Okay," she murmured, going to her desk. "What is it you need help with? I guess I can start by getting the basics tonight, then start the search tomorrow." Pulling out a pen, she got ready to take notes. "Where do we start?"

"I need your help to find a boy," Emily stated simply. She became quiet after that, not saying anymore.

Penelope blinked at Emily patiently. When she received no words, she cleared her throat. "Umm…Em?" she asked. "I'm gonna need a bit more than that. Maybe a name?" She tried to joke, but it fell flat and didn't register with Emily.

Emily nodded, sitting down in a free chair. "His name is Declan," she murmured. "Declan Doyle."


	10. Feeling Remorse - Maybe Not Alone

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Sorry about the delay in getting this out. My new semester started, so I'm kind of busy with that. However, here's the new one! We've got a time jump in store for our four main characters, and the angst continues, especially now that you know Declan is Emily's son. I'm drifting from doing the chapters separated between the girls and the guys; this one includes Derek and Emily's POVs. Thank you so much for the reviews thus far, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy this story.**

**On a different note, the CCOAC Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards for 2014 are going on currently. I'm honored to have five categories on the final ballot: Best Team/Case ("Gone"), Best Angst ("Gone"), Best Garcia/Morgan ("Gone"), Best Post-Episode ("Flirt With Me, Dammit!"), and Best Overall Author (a HUGE shock!). Head on over there to read some of the talented works by all the nominees!**

_4 Months Later_

"_God damn!_" Derek growled through gritted teeth as he came inside Penelope as she rode him. Above him, she arched her back and gasped as she, too, came. Falling forward, she rested her head against his chest.

His time with Penelope had been spectacular. Whenever the team didn't have to travel for a case, Derek managed to find a way to be with her. She made him laugh, she listened to every last fear or thought without judgement, she knew what aroused him most. On the rare nights he managed to stay at her apartment with her, she held him through a nightmare; her arms let him know he was safe and she would never let him go.

With a grin on his face, he kissed the top of her head. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed. With a slight chuckle, he ran his fingers up her spine. Penelope leaned up to look him in the eye. A devilish gleam lit up in her eyes, and she smirked. "What?" she asked.

"You're so incredible, you know that?" he murmured, moving a lock of hair behind her ear.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah," she mumbled. "I know it's great sex."

Cupping her cheek, he shook his head. "No. You're more than great sex. You're my best friend." He gave a wide grin. "The sex ain't bad, though."

Something flashed in her eyes, something he couldn't quite read. But before he could try and decipher the mystery in her wide, doe-like eyes, she leaned forward to peck his lips. She slid off his body, and he grunted at the loss of her body heat and sweet floral scent that was mixed with sex.

"You need to get going," she murmured, sliding her satin robe on. "It's already late as it is." A forlorn look entered her expression, and she gazed at him with sadness in her eyes.

Derek sat up on her bed and cocked his head to study her. Her face began to speak volumes to him. This wasn't the first time he'd seen her look this way in the past five months of their affair. A look so full of guilt and sorrow that it looked like she would buckle over with the pain. He caught glimpses of it during the day when they were around other people, but he'd never seen it when they were together.

When they were together she was happy, the fire that he once saw every day back and burning like a lighthouse in a storm.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he padded across the floor, completely naked, to stand in front of her. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Planting a kiss on her nose, he murmured, "What is it?"

She stiffened in his arms but didn't push him away. "We need to look at slowing down," she admitted after a few moments of silence.

Scoffing, he pulled them backwards so they fell onto the bed. Nuzzling at her neck, he kissed her throat. "Why would we have to do that?" he complained.

She shot him a look. "Derek," she reminded him. "Sam isn't going to be gone forever. His six months is done in one."

The mention of her fiancé sent a flare of what could only be described as jealousy running through his veins. His hold on her tightened, and he pulled her closer. Sam could stay in Europe forever for all he cared. All Derek wanted was for him and Penelope to spend every waking moment wrapped in the others arms.

"Then we'll find somewhere else to do this," he said, confidently.

This time Penelope pulled away. She stared at him, appalled. "Derek," she said. "We _cannot _do this when he gets back. Remember? We decided we weren't doing this any longer than we needed. We were going to stop when we'd…figured things out."

He arched a brow. "And have you _figured things out_?" he challenged. "I know I haven't. I still need you."

She pushed him away and sat up. "See, this is what I don't get about you," she snapped. "You don't seem to feel guilty about this at all! We are _cheating_ on Sam and Savannah! Savannah is your wife, Sam is my fiancé. And you sit here saying we should keep this up even after he gets back! Don't you feel guilty at all?"

Sitting up, he directed an incredulous stare at her. "I don't seem to remember you saying we had to stop this," he argued back, anger raising his blood pressure. "I don't hear you complaining when I'm balls deep in you." He didn't care if he sounded crude. He couldn't believe she would say this to him.

Penelope's eyes narrowed. "The difference between us right now is that _you _don't feel bad at all for what we're doing to them," she growled. "I feel guilty all the time to the point I'm making myself sick! Whenever I see Savannah, I just want to run and jump into the nearest frozen lake. That's how bad I feel. But you just sit there and grin like there's not a problem in the world."

"Well you sure as hell don't seem guilty when we're fucking in the same sheets you used to fuck Sam on," he fired back. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. That was horrible to say. It was cruel.

Not once in their five months had he been cruel to her.

Fury splashed across her face. Lifting her arm, she pointed to her bedroom door. "Get the hell out!" she hissed. "Get your clothes, and _leave!_"

Rising to his feet again, he tried to cup her face in his hands. "Baby, I'm sor —"

She shoved his hands away. "You want to treat me like a cheap slut, then fine!" she yelled, pushing him away. "Get out!"

Sighing, Derek slid his clothes on and left. This time he was forced to leave without a kiss goodbye.

XXXXX

Derek arrived at his home as the time crept towards midnight. Before heading to Penelope's, he thought to text Savannah to lie about having to work late once more. He expected her to already be in bed when he entered the house however, he found his wife sitting in the kitchen.

Savannah sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea sitting in front of her. Her eyes sat focussed on the steam rising from the mug. When Derek opened the door, though, her eyes rose to find him. She stared at him, blinking slowly.

"Hey, honey," he murmured, setting his briefcase down on the countertop. "I didn't expect you to be up so late." He went to her side and placed a kiss on the top of her head. As his lips touched her hair though, he noticed his lips were stiff. It didn't feel natural to kiss Savannah anymore. He hoped his affair with Penelope would get his lust out of his system so he could become fiery for Savannah again.

That had yet to happen. All he wanted was Penelope.

"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice soft as a caress.

He shrugged. "Working," he lied. "We've got a case tomorrow, so I wanted to get everything done before I leave."

With her eyes remaining blank, Savannah looked up at him. Derek couldn't quite tell what hid behind her dark eyes, but there was something there. Her gaze pierced through him, and for a moment, it felt like she could see every lie he'd been telling her the last half a year.

"Derek, what's really going on?" she asked, sorrowful. "You disappear constantly, you're distant…we haven't had sex in nearly six months! What's going on with you?"

Rubbing his face, Derek kept his face neutral. "Honey, I told you," he mumbled, running his hand over his head. "I've got a lot of work on my plate right now. It isn't going to be easy, but it'll be done soon."

Tears filled Savannah's eyes, and all of the sudden Derek recalled Penelope accusation of him not feeling guilty. Right then, he felt a fierce streak of guilt course through him. _There _was the guilt Penelope had been searching for. The remaining anger in him at her made him desire to call and gloat that he'd found it.

The other part of him — the part he couldn't name yet — just wanted to run from Savannah so he could hide and drown in Penelope.

"I miss you, Derek," she whispered. "I miss my husband."

He stared at her blankly, words not coming to his mouth. He couldn't find them. They hid from him, not wanting to be found for Savannah.

_You could find them for Penelope, _a voice whispered n his head.

She bit her lip and shook her head. Wiping tears that began to stream down her face, she looked back up at him with bloodshot eyes. "Are you having an affair?" she asked. Her voice could barely be heard, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she waited for the answer. "Is there someone else?"

Derek, knowing he needed to keep his secret, shook his head vigorously. She was hurting enough; she didn't need the truth to break her anymore. "No," he insisted. "Not at all. Honey, I'm just busy as hell with work. I'm sorry I've been leaving you alone, but I promise you — _promise_ — that I will make this all up to you when this is over. We could go on a vacation."

With a stiff arm, he reached out and caressed her cheek. It didn't feel natural in any way, but he wanted to give Savannah some semblance of comfort.

Savannah rose to her feet and went towards him. Throwing her arms around his neck, she plastered her lips against his and kissed him.

Derek didn't know how to react. His muscles unconsciously tensed, and immediately his mind shot to Penelope. It felt like this kiss with Savannah was betraying Penelope in some way. It didn't even matter to him that he was thinking in reverse of how he should have been. Savannah's lips just weren't Penelope's.

"Make love to me, then," she whispered, moving back to look him directly in the eye. "I miss you so much." Her hands started to roam over his chest, searching for a way to arouse his passions.

Panicking, Derek's eyes grew wide as plates. Savannah's touch no longer aroused him. There would be no way they could have sex with his body not reacting to her.

Grasping her wrists, he shook his head. "Honey," he murmured. "I'm tired. I've been working all damn day and right now I just want to sleep."

His answer should have been, _I'm too damn tired from having three rounds of earth-shattering sex with my best friend._

Dropping her hands, Savannah bent her head and choked on a cry. Derek didn't know what to do; all he could do was stare at her, uncertain. Turning to go, Savannah nodded. "I want you back, Derek," she begged. "Just finish your work soon so I can have my husband back."

When Savannah disappeared out of the kitchen, Derek remained with his eyes trained on the floor. Now he felt horrible for what he'd been doing to Savannah. Even with her out of the room, though, part of her lingered with him. Her last statement rang in his ears.

Was she ever truly going to get him back?

XXXXX

Four months of fear.

Emily couldn't remember the last night of true sleep she got. Every day she went through a vicious cycle of terror that the people she loved wouldn't be kept safe. She would close her eyes for a moment before jerking awake with the realization she couldn't sleep. Many of the nights she was home she found herself pacing in front of Noah's bedroom door, guarding him like a watchmen over their castle.

Doyle's activities in the last four months could only be described as shadowy. She knew he was watching her, keeping her afraid of every threat that wasn't there. He sent her flowers, mementos from their years together, photos of what he planned to do to her.

He had yet to mention Noah or Aaron though, something Emily couldn't decide was good or bad. He could have been saving something worse for them. It also became clear he had no idea where Declan was.

So far, Emily's tactics for protecting her family were working.

While Doyle and his little messages showed his unsuccessful attempts at finding her son, she found herself nowhere closer to finding Declan either. Even with the expert help of Garcia she found herself no closer to finding the son she lost. After stealing Declan away from his father's estate with the help of his nanny, Emily sent them ahead to the States while she finished up the case against Ian Doyle.

When she returned, she found that Louise, Declan's nanny, had disappeared with her son. Emily had no idea where they went, what had become of them. She knew for a fact no one had harmed them; she would have found out from someone who would gloat at killing the son of Ian Doyle, someone who few knew about.

But it was his disappearance that kept her from having him, from raising him so he would know who she was. To protect him though, she took it as an opportunity to let Declan live a life without fear of his father's ghosts coming back for him.

From her front door, she heard a knock. Glancing at the clock, she smiled. It was six o'clock in the evening. Noah would be getting home soon. The team had returned from a case just that morning, and Aaron decided to pick up their son up so he could spend the day with him.

Rising from her couch, Emily padded across her living room to answer the door. When she opened it, she found Noah and Aaron standing on her porch. A grin spread across her face, and she knelt down to open her arms for her son.

"Mom!" Noah exclaimed, throwing his arms around his mother's neck to hug her tightly.

After doing nothing but thinking of Declan for the past few hours, Emily couldn't imagine anything greater than being able to hold one of her children in her arms. She closed her eyes and held Noah tightly, never wanting to let him go.

"Hey, buddy," she murmured, kissing the side of his head. "Did you have a good day with Dad?"

Noah moved back and grinned widely up at Aaron. "We had loads of fun," he said. "Dad picked me up from school, and then we went to the park and played baseball all afternoon."

Emily looked up at Aaron and gave him a nod. Since their tryst four months ago when they were supposed to plan Noah's birthday party, neither of them had an easy time looking one another in the eye. She knew she'd hurt him; she saw it in his eyes the moment they saw each other the day after sleeping together. She hated herself for doing this to him.

But neither of them spoke about it at all. Silence kept it in the dark, and for Emily, if she could keep quiet about it, it could be as if it never happened.

She would be lying though if she said she didn't continue to think about that night. His hands roaming her body stayed imprinted in her brain. Sometimes she swore she could still feel them dancing across her skin.

"Aaron," she said in greeting.

He nodded. "Hello, Emily." A guard stood before his voice, protecting him from any possible emotional curveballs she could throw his way.

She didn't blame him, but that didn't stop her gut from rolling with guilt. With all her heart she wished she could tell him what was going on, _why _she was acting the way she was…maybe even explain why she'd never been able to tell him anything during their marriage.

Protecting him was more important than having him know what was going on.

Rising from the ground, she kept her hands on Noah's shoulders. She cocked her head at Hotch. "Do we have a case tomorrow?" she asked.

Sighing deeply, Aaron nodded. "Unfortunately," he said. "We're headed to Michigan."

"Aww, you guys are leaving _again_?" Noah asked, pouting his lips.

Emily looked away from Aaron and down at their son. She ruffled his hair. "I know, bud," she said. "But we'll be back sooner than you know it. And tonight I was planning on ordering us a pizza."

Immediately, Noah's expression brightened. "No healthy food?" he yelped, excited.

She chewed her lip, attempting not to laugh. "Uh, no," she said, dashing the hopes of her son. "We'll be making something with veggies. But we can still get the pizza."

Noah heaved a heavy sigh. "Fine," he huffed.

Emily looked back up at Aaron. He smiled at Noah, but as soon as he felt her eyes on him, his smile fell from his face. Coughing, he tilted his head toward the driveway.

"Well, er, I'm going to get going," he said, his voice terse. Looking back at his son, Aaron's face widened with a smile once again. "Come give me a hug before I leave, bud."

Noah walked toward Aaron and wrapped his arms around his waist. "I love you, Dad," he said.

"Love you, too, bud," he murmured, planting a kiss on the top of Noah's head.

Breaking out of his father's arms, Noah made his way for the door once more. He looked up at his mother and grinned. "I'm gonna go look at the pizza menu!" he chirped, disappearing inside.

Emily and Aaron were left staring at one another in an uncomfortable silence. Once their eyes met, they held one another's gaze. His dark ones held a connection with hers, and instantly she felt a shiver run up her spine.

_How is it only _he _can make me feel this way_? she asked herself.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," she murmured after several moments. She gave him a small smile, attempting to make a joke. "Wheels up, right?"

Aaron just nodded. "Yeah," he muttered, turning to go without a word.

Emily watched him walk to his car, get in, and leave. Sighing just like Noah would, she went back inside to find her son. She found him sitting at the kitchen table on his tablet, scrolling through his tablet on an online pizza menu. Plopping down next to him, she kissed the top of his head.

"What're you thinking for pizza, dude?" Emily asked, looking over his shoulder to see what he was looking at.

Noah grinned. "Pepperoni," he said. "And garlic knots!"

Laughing, Emily ruffled his hair again. "Who would've known?" she joked.

As Noah scrolled through the menu, Emily watched him. Here in front of her sat a boy she would die for, and somewhere out there in the world was a brother he didn't even know he had. With all of Doyle's messages and scare tactics, she wanted to soak in every image of her child she could. As past experience with Declan told her, she could never be sure when that last image would be.

That evening, as she was putting a sleepy Noah to bed, a thought formed in her head. She didn't know how this would end with Doyle. All she knew was her nemesis wouldn't be harming Noah and Aaron.

What she didn't know was what would happen to her at the end of all of this.

XXXXX

Emily knocked on Garcia's door, her knuckles rapping lightly against the wood. The team was back from their four day case in the small town of Lowell, Michigan, and Emily hadn't heard from her perky technical analyst friend about any of her progress finding Declan.

"Unless it's Morgan, you can come in!" Penelope's voice called.

_Thank God I'm not Morgan, _Emily thought as she pushed the door open. Penelope sounded more pissed than she had in a long time. Emily had no idea what was going on with Penelope and Morgan that had them in the fight of the decade, but she didn't have time to care.

Emily entered Garcia's office to find her typing away angrily at the computer. Penelope's face sat scrunched up, a deep frown plastered across her features. She looked ready to commit murder over someone spilling coffee on her operating systems.

Arching a brow, she went to sit on the desk so she could see Penelope's face. Fury blazed behind her pink and red glasses, and it seemed as if she were on the verge of tears.

"Garcie?" Emily murmured.

"Huh?" Penelope snapped, typing away.

"What're you so pissed about?" Emily asked. Part of her wanted to jump right in and demand any information on Declan Garcia could offer. But she knew if she wanted it and wanted it properly, she needed to calm her seething friend.

Penelope's face broke when she looked up at Emily, but her tears remained at bay. "Nothing," she muttered with a pout. A stern look from Emily made her roll her eyes and huff. "Morgan and I are having a fight." She hung her head like her admission made her weak.

Giving Penelope's shoulder a squeeze, Emily forced herself to remain understanding, even though her brain was screaming to ask about the progress finding Declan. "You wanna talk about it?"

Lower lip trembling, Penelope shook her head. "I'm just pissed at him," she muttered. "He said something horrible to me, and then…" She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. "No. No, I don't want to talk about that jerk bucket. It'll only make me more upset!"

Emily arched a brow. She thought back to Morgan's behavior the last few days while they'd been away in Michigan. He'd been moody, snapping at everyone like an alligator getting irritated by someone poking him with a stick. Aaron even sent him back to the hotel early when it appeared as though Morgan was going to tackle the unsub in the interrogation room.

"You wanna tell me what he said to you?" Emily asked, patient as she could.

"No," Penelope stated firmly. "I'm just…" Her voice trailed off. An unbelievably sad look entered her eyes, and she shook her head. "I'm just not going to talk about him." She spoke the last sentence with a note of finality. Wiping her eyes despite the fact they were dry, she nodded. "What's up, Emily?"

Without another thought, Emily jumped right in. "I need to know if you've found anything since our last weekly meeting," she demanded. "Anything at all."

Penelope sighed. "Black Beauty, the answer is the same as it was last week," she said. "I've done —"

A flash of irritation sparked through Emily. "Garcia, how can you find so many different things about every damn unsub in the country, but you can't find _anything _on a single boy?" she snapped.

Seeing the shift in Emily's behavior, Garcia frowned. She remained silent for a long moment, watching to see if Emily would make another move. Emily saw her friend couldn't quite see what to make of her. "Emily, who _is _this boy?" she asked in wonder. "We've been looking for him for months now. If I can't find him now, I don't know how I'll find him later. Everything we've been doing isn't working."

"Who he is is my business," Emily said. "Right now, I just need you to find him."

"And right now I'm telling you we need to think about giving up on someone who won't be found," Penelope argued back.

Fists clenching into tight balls, Emily growled through gritted teeth, "Garcia, when someone is important to you, you will do _anything_ to be with them. So that's why I need you to keep helping me. I need to find this boy."

Penelope blinked several times, her expression softening. "Emily, please tell me who he is," she pleaded. "It might help me find him."

"If I tell you that information, it could put you in danger," Emily explained. "And I won't do that to you. I just need your help to find him. You're safer with the less you know."

Staring at her for a moment, Penelope nodded slowly. "I'll do whatever I can to find him," she murmured. "I promise."

Moving away from the desk, Emily moved to Penelope and hugged her. "Thank you," she murmured in her ear. "I really need this."

Penelope hugged her back. "I don't know who this is to you, but he must be important," she said. "So now he's important to me."

Even those small words, even know Penelope would never understand Declan's importance, Emily still took comfort in hearing her words.

And for a split second, she felt like maybe she wasn't alone.


	11. Four Months of Hurt - Fitting Meltdown

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Hey, guys! I****'****m so sorry I****'****m neglecting getting these out on time. My reading load really got upped this semester. Here is the new installment where we****'****ll finally hear from Hotch after that months-long gap. I hope you****'****ll enjoy :) FanFiction has been my destress tool of late, so when I get your reviews it makes me feel good!**

Four months of hurt.

Aaron couldn't remember the last time he felt emotional pain this deep. After waking up all those months ago to an empty bed, something in him died. Sleeping with Emily always awoke a fire within him, and after having been deprived of that fire for years, he felt a level of livelihood he didn't remember he possessed.

After that night, he didn't quite know why he expected anything to change between them. The next day he saw her after their tryst, she made no move to acknowledge him in any way other than a professional relationship.

And he just went with the flow.

As he sat within his office before his briefing, Aaron's eyes drifted to the photo on his desk of himself and Noah together. His son really did look exactly like him. He had the same facial features, the same hair, the same jawline. What he didn't have, though, was his eyes.

Those came directly from Emily.

Looking into his son's eyes was always going to be eerie to him in some way.

As his eyes drifted away from the photo, he caught sight of Emily herself rising from her desk to get ready to go to the round table room for the meeting. She still bore the look of someone in desperate need of sleep. Her nails still appeared bitten to shreds.

He wanted nothing more than to find a way to help her. She just wouldn't allow him to.

Rising from his seat with a sigh, he gathered his tablet and files to start the walk to the round table room. Thinking about his situation with Emily would have to come later. The team had yet another case, making this the second one this week.

Thank God this one is just in Maryland, he thought. Hopefully he and Emily would be home soon enough to see Noah's upcoming school play.

When he reached the round table room, he found it oddly quiet. Reid and JJ were mumbling something to one another while Rossi read something on his tablet. Emily, of course, sat by herself, as she had been for the last few months. What he found most puzzling was Morgan and Garcia.

They sat as far from one another as they could possibly sit, and when their eyes met both of them quickly looked away. Aaron knew they'd had a fight during their last case, but he never would have thought it would still be going on. If he remembered to after the briefing, he would have to observe them more closely to figure out what was wrong with them.

"Alright, let's get started," he mumbled, sitting down beside Rossi. He nodded to Garcia. "Go ahead, Garcia."

Oddly silent, Garcia rose to her feet and started the screen rolling. She picked up her tablet to read the details. "Two men," she began, "have been found killed in Annapolis. Both of them were found in the same park in the center of the city. Each of them had ligature marks on their wrists and ankles…" Her voice trailed off as she glanced back at the screen. Aaron noted how hard she swallowed hard when she saw the crime scene photos.

Arching a brow, Aaron asked, "Garcia, are you alright?"

"Yes, sir," she managed, moving forward with the slide show. She swallowed hard. "Local PD says it looks like they've been kept for a few days, but what makes them think these cases are connected are the —" She paused to change the photo. " — the…the lack of their hearts." Pictures of both victims appeared on the screen, each of their chest cavities open and empty in the space where their hearts should have been.

By now Garcia's face seemed to have taken on a green tint. Dropping her tablet on the table, she dashed across the room to the trashcan. The sound of retching filled the room, and everyone sat straight up with concern. Emily leapt from her seat in an instant to rush to Penelope's side.

Aaron watched as Emily moved Garcia's hair back from her face to hold it for her. As Garcia straightened up, Emily placed an arm around her. He saw a look pass between Penelope and Emily, a look that showed the two of them were communicating without words.

What they were saying, though, he couldn't tell.

He watched as Emily guided Garcia back to her seat. As she helped her friend back to her chair, there was a friendliness in Emily's touch that Aaron hadn't seen in several months. What was happening that she would allow Garcia in, but no one else?

"Guys, I'm sorry," Penelope grumbled as she sat down unsteadily. "Those photos were just a bit…" She didn't even finish; she could only shudder as she moved the screen from the photos. "Those are on your tablets."

"Are you going to be okay, Garcia?" Aaron asked. "Do you need me to get Anderson to drive you home?"

Garcia shook her head. "Nope," she muttered. "I am just fine. Let's finish this up."

After Garcia finished getting through the details of the case, Aaron nodded to everyone and rose to his feet. "Wheels up in thirty," he mumbled. Directing his attention to Garcia once more, he added, "Garcia, if you need to get Kevin Lynch to replace you, just —"

She shook her head. "No," she said, sterner than she normally would. "I'll be fine, I'll just look away from crime scene photos, and keep a trashcan close by for if I have to look at them."

With a skeptical nod, Aaron started for his office to gather his things. As he pulled his go-bag up onto his desk, a knock sounded from his door. He glanced up and found Rossi standing there, arms crossed over his chest. A thoughtful expression rested on his face, and it looked as if there were words sitting on the tip of his tongue.

"What is it, Dave?" he asked, stuffing a file into the first pocket of his duffel bag. "You look like you have something to say."

"I'm just wondering if you're noticing what is happening in your team," Rossi mused, entering the office and closing the door behind him.

Aaron rolled his eyes. "Rossi, I know we're profilers, but right now I'm not interested in having to read between the lines to figure out what you're saying," he muttered.

"There are four members of this team who are having issues that I'm worried will start having an affect on how we do our jobs," Rossi said. He went to stand behind one of the chairs in front of Aaron's desk.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Aaron grumbled, even though he knew half of what his friend was talking about. He knew full well Rossi would notice his observations of Emily. Hell, Rossi probably even knew about the sex from four months ago.

Rossi fixed Aaron with an amused smirk. "You know I'm talking about you and Emily," he lectured. "You've been concerned about her for months, and she's been running away from you. We've all noticed something is going on with her." He arched a brow. "I don't know why you'd think you can get her to tell you. She would keep her mouth shut tighter than some of the jars my wives would bring me to open for them. You should know that better than anyone."

"I'm not in the mood for a seminar on how to deal with Emily Prentiss, Dave," Aaron growled in annoyance.

"Oh, I know you're not," Rossi said. "You could probably write the book on her. But that's not necessarily why I need to talk to you."

Aaron crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine, then what is it?"

"You and Emily, Morgan and Garcia," Rossi answered.

That floored Aaron. "What's going on with Morgan and Garcia that you think they can't do their jobs? I know they've been having a fight of some kind, but I don't see their jobs being affected by it."

"You're not seeing it because you're too focussed on Emily," Rossi said. "But there's something going on with the two of them. Penelope getting sick this morning? His reaction was like he couldn't decide if he wanted to go to her or not. If something wasn't going on with them, I don't believe he would do that."

"What are you getting at?" Aaron asked.

Rossi shrugged. "I just think that what we need to see is that this team is experiencing some tension that we need to keep an eye on…otherwise it will tear you four up."

Aaron frowned. He knew that if Rossi was bringing him something, then he needed to listen. He just didn't know how how he could take the words to heart if he couldn't identify the behaviors his friend was talking about.

What use am I as a profiler if I can't even see tension between two best friends? he thought bitterly as he and Rossi got ready to leave his office.

XXXXX

"I'm so glad you guys got back before this, even if JJ had that self defense class to teach," Penelope breathed as she and Emily walked toward the doors of the dress shop. "I was surprised we were able to reschedule, too."

Today she had a dress fitting for her wedding, and she didn't think she would have been able to go in alone. Even if she and Derek hadn't slept with one another in nearly a week and a half — hell, they had hardly spoken — she couldn't decide how she felt about stepping into a dress that she was going to marry another man in.

Rubbing Penelope's shoulder, Emily nodded. "Of course they would," she said. "After you got sick last week, they wouldn't want the bride vomiting while trying her dress on."

Penelope groaned. "God, I still can't believe I got sick in the round table room!"

"Have you been feeling better?" Emily asked.

"If by better you mean not throwing up in the middle of briefings, then yes," Penelope grumbled. "But I think I'm getting a bug of something. I'm feeling nauseous a lot." Before Emily could speak again, she jumped back in. "Oh, and I have some news! I got a ping in the search I did last night."

Abruptly, Emily halted in the middle of the sidewalk. Her eyes went wide, and she pulled Penelope from the center of the sidewalk to the entrance of an alley. Penelope, confused, followed her without hesitation.

"Emily? Are you okay?" she asked.

"What did you find?" Emily demanded, her voice lower.

Brow furrowing, Penelope shook her head. "It wasn't much," she admitted. Seeing that her friend wouldn't lose her intensity until she knew what information lay in store for her. "Based on the description of the boy and of the woman traveling with him, I managed to find a mother and a son who entered a New York City emergency room four years ago."

"Why did they go in?" Emily gasped. Her eyes went wide, frantic as her nails dug into the backs of Penelope's hand. "Was he hurt?"

Penelope barely managed to give Emily's hand a squeeze through her friend's tight grip. "No, no," she assured her. "Declan wasn't hurt. He only went in with his mother. She just had a hand injury. According to the medical report, she needed about five stitches."

Emily rubbed her temples as a gust of chilly February air blew through her hair. "This was only four years ago," she murmured. "Did you find out what happened to them after that?"

Biting her lip, Penelope shook her head. "They dropped off the radar again after that," she said. "I'm sorry."

Her friend stayed silent for a moment, but when she looked at Penelope once more, a small smile covered Emily's face. "Don't be," she said, her expression changing drastically. "Let's go get your dress tried on so we can go back to work."

Nervously, Penelope smiled and allowed Emily to lead her toward the dress shop. She didn't know how she would feel once her dress was on her body. Sam and she had paid for this dress she was about to put on. But it wasn't Sam whose hands had been roaming her body the past months. Would the dress even fit right after this?

_Maybe you should paint a bright red A across it to make it more fitting_, a snakelike voice whispered in her head.

Opening the door for Emily, Penelope followed her into the shop. The middle-aged woman, Kara, at the front stood behind a desk, looking through a list on a computer. She looked up over glasses at Emily and Penelope, a grin spreading across her face.

"Why, Penelope!" she cried, excitedly. "It's so good to see you. I'm glad we were able to fit you in today." She smiled and went around the desk. "I have your dress all ready for you to try on." Gazing at Emily, she added with a twinkling laugh, "And who is this? Your handsome man of honor didn't get thrown from the wedding party, did he?"

Penelope's breath caught in her chest at the thought of Derek. Swallowing hard, she shook her head and smiled. "No, he just had to work," she said. "This is my friend, Emily. She's another bridesmaid." Even as she spoke the words, her heart tore itself into shreds inside. Even talk about Derek made her heartsick. She wanted him back right now, back so she could throw herself in his arms and not have to think about anything but how she felt with him.

Kara sighed. "Well, damn. There's a goodbye to my eye candy for the day."

Emily, seeing Penelope had gone quiet, spoke up. "Where's the dress at?" she asked.

Snapping her fingers, Kara motioned for the girls to follow her. "Yes, of course," she said. "This way. The dress is in the back. You two just wait here while I fetch it." She motioned to the seats in front of the dressing area.

Once Kara was gone, Penelope sat down on the leather ottomans. Her spirit felt dejected, and it weighed her down to a sitting position.

"PG, are you okay?" Emily murmured, sitting beside her. "You look like you're going to be sick again." She placed a hand on her back and rubbed it comfortingly.

Even that didn't make her feel better, though. All she could think of was Derek, to the point her eyes burned with unshed tears. Breathing as evenly as she could, she gave Emily a shaky smile. "Oh, I'm okay," she chirped. "Just nervous about seeing myself in the dress." She gave a sharp laugh. "I'm afraid I'm gonna see myself in it and cry because I miss Sam so much."

Emily gave her a look. "Bullshit," she said. "That's not what this is." She eyed Penelope carefully, trying to profile any part of her she could. "This has nothing to do with Sam, this has to do with your fight with Derek."

"I don't want to talk about that," Penelope grumbled, looking away anxiously. She knew if she looked at Emily while saying this, her secrets would come crawling out. Emily would be able to tell immediately that something like an affair was amiss.

"Why not?" Emily demanded. "Talking about it will do you some good." When Penelope didn't respond, Emily went on with a softer voice. "What happened with you two that you don't want to tell me?"

Finally looking over at her friend, Penelope shook her head. "Emily, you asked me not to push you on who that boy was," she began with a croak, "so now I'm asking you not to ask me about this." She hoped her eyes begged well enough that Emily would drop the issue.

Emily studied her carefully, but as requested, didn't push it. Before either of them could say anything else, Kara returned with Penelope's dress. This sight of the white gown made her stomach churn wildly. A flash of Derek, so vivid she could practically smell his cologne in her nostrils, shot through her brain, and instantly she wanted to run away to Timbuktu.

"Let's help you into this, dear," Kara gushed, unzipping the bag the dress resided in.

Rising unsteadily, Penelope allowed the shop owner and Emily to help get her into the dress. As Kara began to zip it up, she stopped abruptly. "Hmm," she muttered, going for the zipper again.

"What is it?" Penelope asked, turning her neck slightly to see behind her.

"It looks like your dress is a bit tighter in your belly area," Kara said as she worked the zipper. Before Penelope could groan about the weight she'd somehow gained, the dress shop owner got the zipper to go all the way up. "Oh, look at that I go it!" She finished sealing the hooks. "I'll have to fix that a little bit so we don't have that issue again."

Emily whistled. "Wow, Garcie," she said. "You need to check yourself out in the mirror. You look incredible."

Taking a deep breath and trying to banish Derek from her mind, Penelope turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her dress made her look like Cinderella, the skirt of the gown fanned out all around her. The dress hugged her curves so her figure looked voluptuous and lush in the satin. She really did look beautiful.

But at the same time when she saw herself, she couldn't help but see a monster. Who had she become? She'd cheated on her fiancé, she'd betrayed a woman she considered a friend, she'd lied to people.

Right now, the only thing she could think to make her feel better was Derek and the comfort that came from being in his arms. She wanted to hear his voice in her ear, whispering that he was there for her. His face swam in her brain, a piece of forbidden fruit a snake was tempting her to reach for. She wanted it even though she knew it was wrong.

The tears burning behind her eyes came to the forefront and began to creep down her cheeks. Choking on a sob, she looked down at the dress and buried her face in her hands, unable to look at herself anymore.

_I need Derek_, she thought. _He's all I need._

XXXXX

After her breakdown in the dress shop, Penelope requested that Emily take her back to the BAU where she could return to her office and hide out. She stayed there to do her work for the rest of the day, but now that the work hours were over, she had no plans other than to go home and bury her face in a pillow to cry more.

Locking the door to her office, she sighed unsteadily and started for the elevators. Everything inside her wanted to crumble to a pile of dust after her whole afternoon of longing for Derek. She hated feeling this way, feeling weak both physically and mentally. Half of her wanted to drown her sorrows in a bottle of wine, but as sick as she was feeling lately, she didn't think she could handle it.

Get it together, Garcia, she scolded herself. You have a call with Sam tomorrow, you need to be calm and not a hysterical mess.

Up ahead she heard the sounds of the elevator bell and the doors opening. Quickening her pace, she hurried down the hall so she could catch the ride down.

When she came into view of the elevators, she halted abruptly. Getting into the elevator was none other than Derek. And he looked just like she felt: horrible. He stood in the elevator car, his eyes glued to the floor. When he heard her voice, he looked up to find the source. His eyes went wide as the doors started to close.

"Derek!" she called, her voice coming out like a strangled croak.

Derek's hands shot toward the doors, but before he could stop them, they shut completely. Halting in front of the now-closed elevator, Penelope stomped her foot. Tears burned at the back of her eyes for the second time that day.

Shaking her head, Penelope wiped her eyes and darted for the doors to the stairs. She needed Derek, and she needed him now.

So she was going to do the only thing she could think of: she was going to go get him.


	12. Reconciliation - A Visit From Clyde

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews, everyone. I know there was a guest reviewer who mentioned not being happy with the direction of the Morgan/Garcia line, but that****'****s just how I****'****m taking it and that won****'****t be changing. Here****'****s the next one, all girls****' ****POV; however the focus is mainly on Emily. Hope y****'****all will like it :)**

Penelope dashed down the stairwell as fast as her high heels would allow her to go. Tears continued to burn the back of her eyes, and she hoped to whatever higher power there was Derek wouldn't leave before she could get to him.

As she made her way down the seven flights of stairs though, she began to realize she wasn't going to make it down in her heels. Stopping in the middle of one of the stairs, she yanked her shoes off and shoved them into her bag. She didn't care she would be going down barefoot; she just needed to get down these damn stairs.

Without the shoes, she managed to get down the stairwell much faster. Her heart beat like a bass drum in her ribcage, so hard she could hear the thumping against her eardrums. When she'd seen him at the elevators, he looked like he wanted to see her as badly as she wanted to see him. Maybe she'd been seeing things, maybe she hadn't been.

Either way, she wanted to see him with her own eyes, hear what he wanted and if what he wanted was still her. She wanted to beat her fists against his chest and yell at how his words had hurt her; then she wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her. She felt so consumed with guilt for betraying Sam and Savannah and her fierce need for Derek.

Not want, not desire, but _need_.

When she reached the garage level, she burst through the door into the parking lot. Looking around wildly, she peered through the dimly lit garage for where Derek might be. Here she was, standing in the Quantico parking lot, her feet bare against the asphalt, and the man she was looking for was somewhere in here. So far, she couldn't find him.

All of the sudden though, she heard the sound of a car being unlocked. She saw the lights blinking down the line of cars she stood in. She dashed forward to get to the SUV it came from. She knew — an instinct engrained in the back of her brain told her — it was Derek.

Hurrying along to the car that beeped, she skidded to a halt at the left taillight of the familiar SUV. Her gaze shot to the driver's seat where Derek was putting his briefcase inside. He caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at her, shocked.

"Penelope?" he murmured. His voice sounded hesitant, like he didn't know how she would react to hearing her name from his lips.

Setting her bag down beside the back tire, she strode forward, her feet still bare. She stopped in front of him, her heart pounding wildly in her ribcage. Tears burned behind her eyes — when didn't they these days? — but she forced them to stay inside. She didn't know how successful she would be keeping them caged, but while their gazes were locked she wanted dry eyes.

"Penel —"

She held up her finger sharply. "No," she said, gathering her courage. "You're going to listen to me." She waited to be sure he would keep his lips clamped shut. When she was satisfied with his silence, she went on. "You hurt me with what you said, Derek. You really did. What makes it worse is it sounded like you were blaming just me for…_this_! Yeah, I'm hurting Sam, but you're hurting Savannah just as much."

A tear trickled down her cheek against her will, and he tried to go to her. She wasn't done. "I would never hurt you like that, and when you said that…" Her voice trailed off, and she bent her head to swallow hard. Squaring her shoulders, she straightened her back so she stood at her full height. "The only time I'm feeling good is when I'm with you," she admitted. "When you said that, it made me feel like the whole world had fallen in on me."

Derek blinked at her several times. Penelope feared for a moment he was about to open his mouth and reject her. Instead though, he went forward to her and cupped her face gently in his hands. His skin was warm as a beam of sunlight against her face; part of her nearly fell to the ground in a puddle. He caressed her hair back behind her ear. His dark eyes bored into hers.

"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl," he murmured, running his thumb over her cheekbone. In the process, he wiped away a tear that fell from her eye. "I _never _should've said that to you."

Sniffling, she brought one of her hands up to grasp his wrist. Fierce emotions, uncontrollable and untamed, filled her gut. When she looked into his eyes, all she felt was warmth and adoration. And a plea for forgiveness. He was earnest in his apology. When she looked at him like this, something stirred inside her. She saw something there she'd never seen in another man's eyes. A spark lit up inside her. It was small, but it burned there with a steady glow that refused to be snuffed out.

Was she falling in love with him? Were all of these events — the uncontrollable tears, the only feelings of happiness occurring around him, even the feelings of guilt — signs she had fallen in love with her best friend?

"What you said," she murmured, "about still needing me?"

He kissed her forehead and nodded. "Yeah?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a fiery kiss. His lips against hers after so long apart tasted like the most decadent spice she could imagine. Their tongues tangled together, and when she broke the kiss, she rested her forehead against his.

"I still need you, too," she whispered. "I don't know what's going on with me, but I know I need your support. I'm so guilty I can't breath, but when I'm with you…I feel…._happy_. And I need to find that happiness again with Sam before we get married, so I need your help now more than ever."

Something flashed in his eyes she couldn't read, but it left as quickly as it appeared. Leaning down, he kissed her softly, his lips just barely brushing against hers. "I need you in the same way," he whispered. "We'll get this right. Then we can go back to being our normal selves."

She arched a brow. "Will we, though?" she asked. "Will we ever be normal after this?"

He shrugged. "I think so." And then he pulled her flush against him once more and wrapped her in a kiss so passionate it sent tingles through the whole of her body.

Penelope kissed him back just as fiercely. They stood there, wrapped in one another's arms with no intention of leaving. But after a few moments though, she broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his.

"We…need to get out of here," she whispered.

Derek chortled a laugh. "Why wait, Baby Girl?" he said, lowering his voice to a seductive tone. "I can't wait for you. And we've got a perfectly good backseat right here."

Grinning, Penelope nodded. "Let's get in there then," she whispered, opening the door and pulling him in by his jacket collar.

XXXXX

"Have you found out anything about his movements through Europe?" Emily asked Tsia over the phone while sitting in her car. Since Jeremy's death four months ago, Tsia had come back to the States and was living under the radar in DC. She and Emily spoke every week on a secure line to find out if there were any developments in finding out where Ian Doyle was.

"Clyde called me to say Doyle was allegedly spotted going into Brussels," Tsia said. She sounded exhausted. Emily didn't blame her; neither of them were getting any sleep.

Emily bit her thumb nail. "How long ago was he seen there?"

Tsia's breath seemed to catch in her chest before she spoke next. "This was two days ago," she muttered. "What is he _doing_? Why hasn't he come after the rest of us yet? Why just Jeremy?" There was a twinge of pain in her voice, and Emily felt a twinge of pain for her friend's loss.

"Doyle's grown bitter in prison," Emily returned. "He wants to drag this out, to scare us."

_He wants to test the waters to see if he can find Declan_, she added silently to herself. She needed to keep her mouth closed about Declan around Tsia. After she called Sean to tell him about her pregnancy twelve long years ago, he had kept it quiet, even within their own team. Telling Tsia about Declan with Doyle after them all would only put her son at risk, whether or not Tsia knew where Declan was.

"If he finds us, he's not going to hold back anything," Tsia grumbled.

"_When_ he finds us, we'll be ready," Emily vowed. "I'm not holding anything back either."

"Have you thought about asking your team to help us?" Tsia asked. "Have you told your ex-husband?"

Emily's eyes narrowed, even though Tsia wasn't there to see her. "No," she said, her voice hard as iron.

"Emily, they could help," Tsia insisted. "I'm almost positive Aaron wouldn't want anything happening to you."

"I'm not bringing them in," Emily snapped. She chose to ignore Tsia's comment about Aaron. Tsia had never even met Aaron, so she wouldn't know how he reacted to situations. And Emily was positive Aaron wouldn't truly care after the way she'd left him the next morning. "I'm not putting them in danger."

_You__'__ve already put Garcia in danger, though, _an internal voice reminded her.

Tsia relented. "Alright," she said. "But you have a someone to protect. You have to play things more carefully."

"Trust me, I'm not unaware of that," Emily snapped. "I spend most nights patrolling around my house to make sure Doyle doesn't have anyone keeping an eye on me."

"And have you found anyone?" Tsia asked.

Emily sighed gratefully. "No, thank God. I'm hoping he's waiting to call in the calvary until he gets here himself. Then we can take them out all at once." As she sat in her car, she sighed. "I need to go. I have to get back to work."

"Stay safe," Tsia murmured, repeating the words they said to one another each time they hung up.

Emily didn't respond as she set the phone into her glove compartment. Groaning, she closed her eyes and laid her head back against the car seat. So Doyle was making his way west across Europe. His purposeful delay in getting to DC told her she would be facing an extremely vengeful version of the man she'd once posed herself to love.

Rubbing her forehead, she opened the door and got out of the car. She told the BAU she had gone to lunch on her own, but in reality she'd sat in her car to talk with Tsia. After Garcia's revelation to her three days ago at the dress shop that Declan and Louise had appeared in a New York City emergency room, she could think of nothing else. Was he still in New York? She'd been there for cases several time.

Had she really been so close to him?

Shutting her car door and locking it up, she shouldered her bag and started for the elevators. As she walked though, her heels clicking along the asphalt, her senses began to tingle with the sense someone was watching her. She halted and whirled around, looking down the rows of cars. Her eyes narrowed. She heard no sound, but she knew her gut feeling. She _knew _someone was here.

"Don't be shy," she called, her voice frigid as ice. She moved out of the range of any video camera in the garage. Whoever was watching her would not want to risk being caught on tape. "Come on out."

After no more than five seconds, a figure appeared from behind an SUV. "It's good to see you haven't lost your gut feelings while in a cushy job with the FBI."

Emily's jaw would have dropped, but she knew better. "Clyde," she said in greeting. "When did you get in?"

Clyde Easter shrugged and strode forward to meet her face to face. "I came in on an early morning flight," he said, eyes scanning the garage.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't have something important to tell me," she observed. "So what is it?"

Clyde wasted no time in getting to his point. "It's Sean," he said in a low voice. "He and his family were murdered in Brussels."

This time Emily's mouth did drop. "Sean's dead?" she whispered, her voice coming out like it was grating against coarse granite. So this was why the last spot Doyle had been spotted was Brussels. Tears burned the back of her eyes, but like all her tears, she held them in.

"Yes," Clyde repeated. "And we all know who did it."

Emily's fists clenched into tight balls. "Doyle," she spat. The desire for vengeance raced through her veins, and she bent her head. Sean's death and Doyle's movement west only meant one thing. "He's coming here next." She looked back up at Clyde.

"Oh, most certainly," he muttered. "Doyle's been scaring you for months, but now he's ready. With you, Tsia, and I here — and Sean and Jeremy dead — we're going to be having the final stand here. He won't wait much longer."

"He has to find a way into the country somehow, though," Emily pointed out.

Clyde shot her a sardonic look. "You know he'll find a way," he lectured. "He wants something, and he's waited years to get it."

"He won't kill any of us," she said. "We're ready and waiting for him."

Fixing her with yet another look, Clyde shook his head. "Enough lying, Emily," he growled. His eyes flashed, and Emily was reminded of who she was standing in front of. He may have been her partner once, but he was also a spy, through and through.

She frowned, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," he said. "Or rather, _who_."

Emily stayed silent for a long moment. The second "who" left Clyde's lips, she realized he knew. He knew about Doyle's son…about _her _son.

"How did you find out?" she asked after a long staring match between her and her former team leader. "Sean and I managed to keep anyone from knowing."

Clyde let out a bitter laugh. "Darling, _please_," he chuckled. "Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out?" She didn't respond, so he continued on. "When things began to take longer than they should have, and Doyle moved you to a secluded area in Italy, I figured something must have been going on. Doyle had certainly fallen in love with you, but I couldn't be sure until Sean began keeping photos of you out of reports."

"Sean knew that if anyone in any organization — like Interpol — knew about Declan, they would use him against Doyle," she hissed. "I wouldn't allow my son to have to live like that."

"And what about your son growing up without his mother?" Clyde challenged. "You submitted him to that."

With a tight voice, Emily growled, "It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Louise got lost."

"If I know you — and trust me, darling, I do — you're working to find him so you can find a way to protect him."

Emily didn't say anything for a long time. She stared at Clyde. "You don't focus on Declan," she ordered finally. "Just help me fight against Doyle."

Striding forward, Clyde put his hands on her shoulders and nodded. His expression softened. "Count on it," he said. "We'll take him out before he can hurt you, your team, and your sons."

Emily nodded, grateful. "Any time you hear anything," she murmured, "tell me. I need to keep Noah and Declan safe."

Clyde nodded. "And you will," he promised.


	13. Dreams of Family

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Apologies on this taking so long to come out. We're moving right along toward Doyle and the endgame. Here's one with the boys' POVs, and a little bit of spicy Hotch and Emily for the Hotchniss fans ;) Let me know what you think in the comments!**

_"__Daddy! Daddy, wake up!"_

_Derek's eyes fluttered open at the sound of a child's voice. At first his vision was blurred, but after a few blinks, it cleared up so he could make out the speaker. It was a small boy, about five years old, and he stood with a smile that stretched across his small face. Confused, Derek sat up._

_The little boy crawled up on the bed with him and grinned cheekily. He had curly, mahogany hair on the top of his head, and prominent dimples which became even more pronounced as he smiled wider. His eyes stared back at Derek, the same onyx color as his own. With a giggle, the boy threw his arms around Derek and hugged him tight. Still bewildered, Derek held the boy back._

What's going on? _he thought. Savannah and he hadn't gone through treatments to get pregnant. So where had this child come from?_

_Despite his feelings of confusion, though, hugging this little boy felt natural. He felt love for the child in his arms, even if he couldn't remember how he'd entered his life._

_"__Daddy, why are you still in bed?" the little boy asked. "Why aren't you getting up and making breakfast for Mommy and me?"_

_"__What do you want for breakfast?" Derek asked._

_His son — what had he named him? — rolled his eyes and began hopping up and down on the bed. "Dad," he huffed. "You know I wanted pancakes with chocolate chips in them!"_

_"__Shaped like Mickey Mouse?" Derek asked, somehow knowing that's what his son would want._

How could I know that_? he thought. _I don't even know his name.

_"__Duh, Daddy!" his son crowed._

_A quick knock on the door caught his son's attention. The bright grin resumed on the boy's face. "Mama!" he cried with exuberance._

_Derek looked over at the door of his bedroom, fully expecting to find Savannah in her satin robe and a mug of tea in her hand._

_Instead of seeing his wife though, he found Penelope. Looking back and forth between the grinning child on the bed and the smiling woman at the door, Derek's mouth dropped. The smile of Penelope and the smile of the child were the same._

_The second the connection between the smiles clicked in Derek's brain, everything made sense. This child wasn't his and Savannah's; this child was his and Penelope's._

_Penelope walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. She kissed Derek directly on the lips. "Get up and make your wife and son breakfast," she murmured._

_Derek's eyes went wide. "What are you —"_

Beeping filled Derek's ears, and his eyes snapped open in a hurry. Beside his head sat his blaring alarm clock. The numbers six and zero blinked back at him, and he hit the button to turn the beeping off. Sighing, he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

Why had he dreamed that? And especially with Penelope, someone who insisted she didn't want children either. He hadn't wanted children…he _didn't _want children.

Did he?

"Crazy ass dream," he grumbled, rubbing his face.

"What was that, Baby?"

Derek turned his head and found a sleepy-looking Savannah. She smiled at him and put a hand on his shoulder. He gave her a tense smile back. "Morning," he managed through a tight throat.

She leaned over and kissed him. "Good morning, back," she said. "What was that you said about a crazy dream?"

He gulped. "Um, well…" he stammered.

When his voice didn't go far, she leaned up on her elbow to look him in the eye. "Wanna tell me what you dreamed about?" she asked, a hint of a mischievous smile entering her face.

Derek couldn't find words to form a lie. There were no words to describe the confusion he found himself in. Dreams were supposed to say something about a person's subconscious, so what in the hell was this dream saying about _his_?

"Oh, I was just…it was a dream about Reid and I," he blurted. "We were playing chess, he was kicking my ass, and…and then my coffee spilled all over me." He gave a half-hearted laugh.

Savannah, not seeing through his lie, laughed. She leaned across him and kissed his lips lightly. Derek kissed her back, but his lips felt wooden against hers. He put in as much feeling as he could, but part of him knew there was no going back to the way things had been.

A storm had brewed in him, one that was fueled solely by Penelope. No amount of sweetness from Savannah could halt it. He knew what these feelings likely meant, but he wanted to bury them. Love didn't mesh with him, his now-loveless marriage to Savannah taught him that. But Penelope had made it clear she was intent on marrying Sam still, so even if he did express how he felt, there was no possible way for him to win.

Kissing Savannah back, he sat up and pushed the covers back. "I gotta get ready for work," he murmured, his voice lacking any form of emotion. His heart felt leaden all of the sudden, and he needed to get on the road to punch out some feelings in the punching bags at the gym.

As he started for the shower, Savannah sat up on the bed and looked at him inquisitively. "Derek?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he responded, tossing his shirt in the hamper.

"I love you," she murmured. "I want you to know that."

Derek turned around to face his wife. Her face was sincere, full of devotion to him. The guilt Penelope wondered if he felt started to hit him full force then. He went to Savannah's side of the bed and cupped her face in his hands. Bestowing a kiss on her lips, he murmured, "I know you do. I…I love you, too."

She smiled up at him, and in that moment, Derek didn't know what he was going to do. Here in front of him was a woman who loved him with her whole heart, and nothing stirred in him.

Instead, he was madly in love with another woman —a woman he was dreaming about having a family with — who would never belong to him.

XXXXX

_Aaron sat in the middle of a clearing in the woods of Maine. He and Emily came here for their honeymoon, having chosen somewhere less traditional so they could have complete quiet and isolation. Right now they were on their first hike since getting to their cabin, and they wanted to soak in every last sound of the quiet before they had to get back to the real world._

_As he stared up through the trees at the sun shining through, a pair of lean arms snaked around him from behind. Light lips dusted a kiss beneath his earlobe. A rare smile lit up his face. One of Emily's hands stroked up his sternum, and a tickle ran up his spine._

_"__It's quiet out here," she murmured in his ear._

_He nodded. "Yeah," he said in a hushed voice._

_"__Just like you." Another kiss got dotted on his neck. "Aren't you excited? We're in your element."_

_A chuckle left his lips. "My element, huh?" he joked._

_"__Uh-huh," she said, leaning further over to kiss his jaw._

_To surprise her, he turned abruptly and pulled her into his lap. He kissed deeply, his tongue plunging into her mouth and stroking against hers. Against his lips, she giggled. Her fingers tickled their way up his neck toward his hair, where she ran her fingers through the dark mane on his head. He trailed kisses down her jawline, and a rush of excitement ran through him when she sighed with pleasure._

_"__I love you," she whispered, her hand snaking up his t-shirt. Her hands on his abdomen succeeded in making him hard. His erection strained against his pants, and he groaned when she dug her nails into his stomach muscles._

_To his surprise, she sat up and pushed him backwards to straddle his waist. She kissed him forcefully, her tongue thrusting into his mouth. Yanking at the hem of his shirt, she pulled it upward. Their lips broke apart momentarily so he could throw the garment across the grass. Her hands roamed his chest, causing every nerve ending on his body to tingle. She started trailing her lips from his jaw down his neck and onto his sternum. He closed his eyes as she went on touching him._

_Out of nowhere, she stopped touching him. His eyes snapped open, but when he looked up at her, he saw she was removing her own shirt. He cupped her breasts, massaging them in his hands before unhooking her bra. Their eyes never broke as she tossed her undergarment aside. He briefly broke their eyes contact to touch her breasts and stare at them. They stood at attention, perky with dusky rose nipples pointed and begging to be touched._

_"__I want you inside me," she breathed, her hands fiddling with his belt buckle. "_Now_."_

_Aaron grinned up at her. "Anything for you," he murmured._

_They tore at each other's clothes with a primal fire. Soon they wore nothing, both of them rolling in the grass and allowing nature to overcome them. He flipped Emily over, pinning her beneath him. Her raven hair lay fanned out around her head, the darkness clashing with her creamy white skin. She smiled up at him, her eyes glowing with longing._

_"__Now," she whispered._

_Aaron couldn't find it in himself to deny her. He positioned himself at her opening, driving into her with one fell swoop. Both of them cried out in ecstasy, their moans filling the clearing around them as they made love beneath the sun and trees. He thrust in and out of her, going deeper and deeper with each push._

_"__Oh, God!" Emily screamed. "Aaron, don't stop! Don't —"_

"Aaron!"

Sitting upright, Aaron looked around wildly. He blinked several times and found he was in his office. A file rested on his chest, and his body lay stretched out on the couch. Rubbing his face, he looked towards the voice of who had pulled him from sleep.

In his doorway stood Rossi.

"What time is it?" Aaron yawned, sitting up. He was having a difficult time pushing the memory he'd dreamed about from his head. He could almost smell Emily's scent still on him, that was how strong the dream had been.

"It's seven," Rossi answered, entering the office and sitting in one of the chairs opposite the couch. He arched a brow at Aaron. "You spent the night here."

Aaron set his file on the table and rubbed his face. "Yeah," he said. "Emily had Noah last night. I meant to go home, though. Guess I just dozed off."

"Speaking of Emily…" Rossi began.

Forcing his face to remain neutral, Aaron arched a brow. He didn't want Rossi to get any inkling of the dream he'd been having before getting woken up. When Rossi didn't say anything, just sat with an amused expression on his face, Aaron rolled his eyes. "What about her, Dave?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing," Rossi said. "You were just saying her name in your sleep as I came inside the room."

Aaron kept his face neutral, but stared evenly at his friend and partner. Seeing Rossi's amused face, ready to burst into laughter, made him want to lose his usual calm, cool, and collected nature. He almost wanted to punch the smirk off his face. "You're acting awfully amused about something," he grunted.

"Didn't you and I have something we talked about regarding Emily not that long ago?" Rossi mused, stroking his beard and looking innocent as possible.

This time Aaron rolled his eyes. "We're not going there, Dave," he growled. "You're overthinking things."

"I'm not overthinking anything," Rossi argued, casually siting back in his seat and folding his hands over his chest. "You're in love with your ex-wife, that's what's going on here."

Aaron rose to his feet and snatched his file from the table in front of him. "Not going there," he repeated.

"Why don't you tell her how you feel?" Rossi asked, his eyes following Aaron as he went toward his desk to file away the folder he had fallen asleep with. "Maybe you telling her how you feel will pull her out of whatever this funk of hers is. Maybe it will make your son the happiest kid on the planet."

Rubbing his face tiredly, Aaron shook his head. "No," he said. "Emily and I made it clear to each other we didn't feel the way we felt when we got together."

_That dream you just had would suggest otherwise, Hotchner, _he told himself in his head. He went to his small closet and pulled out a fresh shirt. He needed to change before their morning briefing. The team would be departing for Boston later, and he didn't want them noticing he'd slept here.

"The fact you're saying her name in your sleep would suggest otherwise," Rossi said, not knowing how closely he'd echoed Aaron's inner thoughts.

Ignoring the comment, Aaron started fiddling with his shirt buttons and asked, "Have you seen Garcia yet today? I want to go over some case details with her before she presents."

Rossi shrugged. "Yeah, she's here," he answered. "In fact, I thought I saw her hanging around with Emily." A hint of a laugh entered his voice when he said Emily's name.

Once again ignoring Rossi, Aaron exchanged shirts and went for the door of his office. "I'll see you in the briefing," he grumbled, not allowing the sounds of Rossi's chuckling to infiltrate his ears. He chose to concentrate on his job, rather than the bullshit Rossi was ready to put him through.

As he made his way toward Garcia's office, he stopped before turning the corner when he heard hurried voices.

"What do you _mean _you think you found someone in Virginia who fits the descriptions?" one voice hissed. Aaron's ears perked up immediately. He knew that voice anywhere; it belonged to Emily.

"No stuttering here, Black Beauty." Garcia.

"But…why would you just _now _be finding them if they're so close by?" Emily asked, her voice hurried and frantic.

Garcia huffed. "Emily, do you really think that I would have the job I have if I wasn't good at it?" she snapped.

The technical analyst's tone puzzled Aaron. Garcia never sounded like this, save for the off chance she was fighting with Morgan. He could only imagine what was going on to have two of his team acting strange.

_Thank God Sam is coming back soon, _Aaron thought, knowing his technical analyst probably missed her fiancé.

"Things like this take time," Garcia went on, her voice slowing down to a gentler tone. "If someone doesn't want to be found, there are ways they can hide. It looks like they found a way, is all."

Aaron frowned at Emily's silence, as it gave him a moment to try and process the conversation he happened upon eavesdropping. What in the hell were they talking about? He didn't remember any requests going through him to find the _they _that Emily and Garcia were talking about.

"We need to look harder then!" Emily demanded finally.

"Emily, you are driving me a little more than nuts with this!" Garcia said. "Why is it so important we find this boy, and why do we have to do it now?"

Aaron already knew Garcia wasn't going to receive an answer. Emily kept them too well. No matter how much she loved Penelope, she wouldn't say a word if it meant compromising the information she was keeping to herself.

"I'll tell you when I can. Right now, it just isn't safe…for him or for you." Emily's answer remained vague.

Though it was vague, just the tone of her voice spoke volumes to him. He heard the affection and love in her tone when she spoke of the _him _she said. It sounded almost as if she were speaking about Noah. He frowned, standing stock still to not give away his presence.

Penelope sighed. "I won't give up," she said. "I just…I just want to know who I'm looking for."

"And you will," Emily assured her. "Someday. Just not now."

Aaron waited as the two of them said their goodbyes until the briefing. From his spot behind the corner, he was able to hear as Emily left for the bullpen and Garcia opened the door to her office. Was this what caused Emily to go off kilter? Was this why she dropped away from being who she usually was?

Once he was sure Emily was gone, Aaron made his way toward Garcia's office. He needed to see if he would get anything out of Garcia.

Although if the behaviors of both women was telling him anything, it was that Penelope's silence was unlikely to be broken soon.


	14. Flu Symptoms - An Unexpected Guest

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**We're moving right along with the plot in this one. It's picking right up here for both the girls. Thank you for reviews, and I hope you'll enjoy this one!**

"_Achoo_!"

Penelope groaned as a vicious sneeze shook her upper body. She was coming back from the bathroom where she'd upchucked the entirety of her breakfast. She entered her office and rubbed her stomach. For the past three days she'd begun to feel ill. Her stomach churned with nausea constantly, leaving her with chills and never-ending sweating. To top it all off, she'd gained some weight, and she had no idea why.

It probably had something to do with the fact Sam would be returning in six days.

Sam would be returning, and Derek would be exiting her life. He would still be in her life, he would still be her best friend…he just wouldn't be her lover. She wanted him to remain her lover so bad it burned her insides to the point she wished she could scream.

_"__Tell me something I can hold onto forever," Penelope whispered as she sat astride Derek's lap in the back of his car._

_Her shirt and bra lay on the floor of his car, and his hands caressed her breasts. His mouth suckled at her nipples. She tossed her head back, pressing his head further into her chest. They were in the process of making up, and she wanted to keep him talking so she would be less tempted to confess her love for him._

_Derek arched a brow at her, laughing in the process. "Like what?" he asked._

_She shook her head, kissing the base of his jaw. "Anything."_

_Tilting her chin up so he could look her in the eye, he ran his thumb over her cheekbone. "Never lose yourself, Baby Girl," he finally said. "You've got something in you that this whole damn world needs to see."_

_She giggled. "Oh? What is it?"_

_He lifted his hand to touch her breast, but his gesture wasn't sexual. He was touching her heart. "You've got the biggest heart anyone is ever gonna find. Don't you dare lose this." _

It took all her energy and self control not to tell him she was in love with him after that moment.

Wrapping her arms around her chest to try and warm herself — and trying to banish Derek from her mind — she sat back down at her desk. Dejected, she began to type away at her computer. She was surprised, but she thought she may have caught the scent of the mystery boy Emily set her on the hunt for. She hadn't told her friend this yet, but she was confident she would be able to bring her something soon.

"Where are you, Declan?" Penelope grumbled, looking through a list of tax records hopefully belonging to the woman, Louise, who Emily said would be with Declan. More than once Penelope wanted to demand of Emily who this boy was, but she decided she could wait until she found him.

As she continued typing, stomach still storming with nausea, a knock sounded on her door. "C'mon in!" she called, not looking up from her work. She was too distracted to give a unique or personalized greeting.

The door opened, and quiet footsteps entered the room. Turning around, Penelope's eyes went wide. She immediately felt sicker. Standing in her office now, face downtrodden and dejected, was Savannah Morgan.

Penelope swallowed hard. She forced a smile. "Hey, Savannah," she managed. "Fancy seeing you here." Savannah didn't say anything, so Penelope went on. "Are you looking for Derek?"

Savannah still didn't say anything, just shook her head, and Penelope's gut dropped another ten feet.

_Oh, no,_ she thought, her face draining of color. Her stomach churned with guilt. _She knows. She's come to my office because she knows I'm sleeping with Derek._

When her friend — God, how could she still say they were friends after what she'd done? — still didn't respond, she grew concerned. "Savannah?" she murmured. "What's wrong?" She rose to her feet and went to stand in front of her, placing her hands on her arms. "Are you alright?"

Tears filling her eyes, Savannah closed her eyes and shook her head. She choked on a sob, and immediately Penelope pulled her into her arms to embrace her. The whole time her stomach churned viciously, but she needed to ignore it. She rubbed Savannah's back soothingly, holding her tightly.

"What is it?" she asked hoarsely, pulling back to look Savannah in the eyes.

Savannah, still in tears, shook her head. Penelope took her by the wrist and guided her to an empty chair to sit. Placing herself down in her own chair, Penelope took both Savannah's hands. She waited for Savannah to find the words she was looking for.

"Everything's hopeless, Penelope," Savannah whimpered.

Rubbing Savannah's upper arms, Penelope wiped one of her cheeks. "What's hopeless, sweetie?" she murmured.

_You know what's hopeless to her, traitor, _the snakelike voice that had been following her for months whispered in her head.

"He doesn't love me," Savannah wept. "He doesn't love me the way he did before. He's…he's just gone now."

Penelope wanted to barf with her self-hatred. Derek was gone from Savannah because he was continuously fucking Penelope…the other woman.

"What do you mean?" she lied.

_You know what she means, you Judas, _the snake whispered in her head.

Savannah sniffled and wiped her eyes. "He disappears for nights, he spends no time at the house," she began. She laughed bitterly. "We haven't had sex in six months." Her face went dark all of the sudden. "He's having an affair. I know he is."

Penelope gulped. "Savannah…" she murmured. "He loves you. Derek loves you so much." Or at least he would, as soon as their affair was over.

With her lower lip trembling, Savannah bent her head. "What's wrong with me?" she whispered, her voice coarse as sandpaper. "What did I do wrong that drove him away?"

Grasping both Savannah's hands in a death grip, Penelope shook her head vigorously. The last thing she would have was Savannah blaming herself for this when no one but Penelope and Derek were the perpetrators.

"_No_," she exclaimed, holding Savannah's hands tighter than she should have. "Listen to me: you have done _nothing _wrong. Even if Derek were cheating on you, it wouldn't be because of you…" She gulped past a lump in her throat. "It would be because Derek was an idiot."

As she finished her passionate speech, bile rose in her throat and she began to cough. Everything she'd said to Savannah, she sincerely believed. None of this was her fault, she was the one being betrayed.

At the same time, she was madly in love with Derek. She would never have him, but she would always love him.

Letting go of Savannah's hands, Penelope whirled her chair toward her waste basket and dry heaved. She deserved the flu after what she was doing to her friend who sat in her office with her.

"Oh my god, Penelope!" Savannah cried, rising to her own feet and dashing to Penelope's side. She held Penelope's hair back and rubbed her back.

When Penelope stood up straight, she rubbed her face. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I think I'm getting the flu."

Savannah, her tears now dissolved, gave her a look. "You should go to your doctor," she advised. "They can prescribe you an antibiotic. See if Aaron will give you some time off, too."

Staring at Savannah, Penelope felt even more guilty. If she knew that Penelope was the cause of her misery, she'd be slapping her instead of telling her to go to the doctor.

Penelope nodded in agreement. "Okay, I'll go to the doctor," she promised. Her face softened in an instant in order to switch the topic. "But I want you to know…as Derek's best friend, I know he loves you. I don't want you thinking you've done anything wrong." Her face hardened for a moment, although the frustration was more directed at herself than Savannah. "Are you hearing me?"

Savannah studied Penelope's face for a long moment. It seemed as if she were studying her, searching for an answer in her features. Penelope couldn't read the look on her face. Savannah nodded, though. "I hear you," she whispered. "I hope you're reading him as well as you think you are."

_I'll always read him right_, Penelope thought. _It's because I love him so much._

XXXXX

"_When_?" Emily asked, her voice formidable as iron. She sat on a park bench, watching as Noah played football with some of his friends. Her phone was at her ear, held there by fierce anxiety.

The call she'd been fearing for months had finally come.

"Three days ago," Clyde answered.

Rage filled her heart. "_Three days ago!_" she hissed. "How in the hell did you not think to tell me he'd entered the country three days ago?"

"Darling, if we had found out, we would have told you straight away," Clyde responded dryly. "He's been laying low, though. Tsia nor I have seen any activity on his part."

Emily's hands clenched into fists. "No," she said. "No, he's not laying low. He's hiding from us, but he's moving. He's gathering steam, gathering forces, to take us out…to find Declan."

"You still don't know where he is," Clyde pointed out. "Since that's the case, Doyle won't know either. Not unless he has a technical analyst who's working magic for him the same way you do."

Watching Noah play and be rowdy with his friends, her throat tightened. Declan wouldn't be the only thing Doyle would go after. His hatred for her would lead him to even more malicious actions. It scared her to death Doyle would not only target Declan, but Noah and Aaron as well. And what would make matters worse? Noah and Aaron were useless to him, save for their ability to be used against Emily.

To him, they were expendable.

"He'll go after everyone I love," Emily mumbled, half to herself, half to Clyde.

"Then we stop him," Clyde said.

The gun in a holster on her ankle felt heavy against her leg. But she needed to keep it with her. Who knew when Doyle would come for her. She watched as her youngest son played with his friends. A ringing began to fill her ears, and the sounds of the park disappeared from her senses. Her eyes remained focused on Noah.

"Emily?"

Snapping back to the present, Emily listened to Clyde's voice over the line. "What?" she muttered.

"I asked you if you're sure if you don't want to bring your team in on this," he said. "The more the merrier."

Had he been right in front of her, she would have smacked him for his horrible attempt at humor. "No," she insisted. "Garcia is helping me look for Declan, but she has no idea who he is."

"If Doyle were to get ahold of her, looking for Declan makes her the one in the most danger…after you, of course," he pointed out.

In her haste to find her eldest son, and her fear of Doyle harming her family, Emily hadn't considered the real danger Penelope was in. She really did hold the key to finding Declan, and if Doyle were to figure it out, he would torture her until he got his answer.

She knew how Doyle was. He would hurt Penelope horribly to get his son back..

"He won't hurt her," Emily said, her voice shaking. A small voice in the back of her brain shook her confidence to the point she felt a twinge of doubt. "I won't let him."

"You be careful then," Clyde warned her. "Tsia is heading for a safe house tomorrow. She's beginning to get paranoid."

Emily snorted. "Maybe that's the smart thing." She knew her words were rubbish, but she couldn't help but be bitter. Tsia and Clyde had the ability to hide in the shadows and strike when Doyle wouldn't know; Emily herself needed to keep appearances up and she had to protect her sons.

"I'll chalk _that_ statement up to nerves," Clyde commented.

While still on the phone, Emily noticed Noah and his friends dispersing. His friends retreated to their respective parents, and Noah began to head toward her.

Hastily, she snapped into the phone, "You do that. And call me if anything comes up. I want to know if you find out Doyle is going _anywhere_." Without waiting for a response from her former team leader, she hung up and shoved her phone into her pocket.

"Hi, Mom!" Noah said, scurrying over to her. He held his football in his hands, and a grin graced his face. Once again, it struck her how much like Aaron Noah looked. The only difference was Noah would actually display his heartwarming smile for the world to see.

Emily rose from her seat on the bench and ruffled her son's hair. "Have fun with your buddies?" she asked, putting her arm around his shoulders as they started out of the park.

Noah nodded and smiled up at her. "Yeah," he said. His face became downtrodden after a moment before he continued. "Dylan was being a jerk, though."

Leaning over to kiss the top of his head, Emily frowned. "I'm sorry, bud," she murmured. "Why was he being a jerk, do you know?

He nodded. "Yeah," he mumbled, tossing the ball back and forth in his hands. "His mom is paying more attention to his new baby brother, and he's jealous."

Emily pouted for him. "Well that's not fun," she said. "I'm sorry, bud."

Noah looked up at her with a pensive expression that showed wisdom far beyond his age. "Are you ever going to have another baby someday?" he asked, his eyes blinking with innocence.

Gulping, Emily didn't answer right away. Declan's face — well, Declan's face from when she'd last seen him — filled her mind. She needed to keep her emotions under control. Looking back down at Noah, she squeezed his shoulder. "Would you ever want a brother or sister?" she asked, genuinely curious as to what he would say.

He shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I would rather have Dad live with us I think."

Emily stayed silent as they walked across the parking lot to her car. It looked like neither she nor Noah would be getting their wish anytime soon. To change the subject, she kissed the top of his head once more and rubbed his back.

"Let's go get some lunch, buddy," she murmured, her heart feeling forlorn as she tried shoving Declan from her mind.

XXXXX

Four days after Clyde's revelation of Doyle being in the States, Emily readied herself to head home after what felt like a long day trekking up a mountain. She and Reid spent the day pouring over case files; Rossi and JJ went out on a consultation; Garcia fretted about Sam's return in two days; Morgan moped around, snapping at everyone he came in contact with; Aaron remained hidden.

Emily went through the motions of the day like a ghost. She was unsure of where her depressive state of the day came from, but if she needed to guess it had to do with Declan's continued absence in her life.

And now, with the workday done, she would be alone. Noah would be with Aaron that night, and she would be returning to an empty house. Being without Noah scared her. His absence left her without a ward against her thoughts. And Clyde's silence made her thoughts grow dark, as if a storm were rolling into her brain beneath a dense fog.

Rubbing her face, Emily made her way to her car in the Quantico parking garage. As a precaution, she looked around for any signs of someone watching her. Her gut feeling told her someone might be lying in wait for her, but the scan she did of the area revealed no one.

_Get a grip, Prentiss, _she scolded herself.

She strode across the garage to her car and slid herself into the drivers seat. Her sixth sense in her gut churned wildly, but she ignored it. She told herself it was nothing, blaming it on Clyde's silence. Throwing her bag in the passenger seat, she leaned her head back against the headrest. She closed her eyes. She needed just a moment before getting on the road to drive home.

_Calm down,_ she thought. _Stay grounded._

Picking up her key's from her lap, she stuck the key in the ignition. She prepared to turn the car on, but a pressure on the back of her skull halted her. Air caught in her chest, and she stopped breathing. The air trapped itself in her lungs, refusing to leave.

She should have listened to her gut. She should have peered through the tinted windows of her car before getting in.

A deep, familiar chuckle sounded behind her from the back seat. He applied more pressure with his gun; it was execution-style against the back of her head, Emily noted.

"Hello, _Lauren_," that familiar voice hissed from behind her. "Did you miss me?"


	15. Truth Telling - Doctor's Visit

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Here's the next one, and it's another girl party in terms of POVs. Sorry to leave you the way it was last chapter. I appreciate the reviews so, so much! I hope this satisfies :)**

Emily's fingers tightened around the steering wheel of her car. She kept her breath under control as best she could, knowing full well Ian Doyle's gun's safety was off. He wouldn't kill her, though. Not when she still had something he wanted.

"Hello, Ian," she said, her voice dry as an arid desert. "You've been awfully quiet for getting here a week ago."

"How well you know me," Doyle responded, leaning farther forward so his breath tickled her ear.

_No shit_, Emily thought. _I only lived with you for three years, had your child, witnessed your downfall. I damn well better know you after that._

She snorted. "You wanna tell me why you decided to show up now of all times? You've been here for a little while."

"Oh, I haven't been laying low though," he assured her. He kept his gun to her head, but slid from the back seat to sit beside her on the passenger's side.

Emily inhaled before glancing over at him. Ian had aged in the past nine years. His features gained wrinkles while he'd been in prison, and he sported a five o'clock shadow from three days ago. In his eyes burned a malice so fierce it burned directly through her. She didn't flinch; she kept her eyes pointed straight at his, letting him know she would not back away from him like a frightened child.

Drawing his gun down from the side of her head, he slid it down her cheek and rested it on the side of her neck. "Drive," he ordered, his voice a dangerous low tone.

Without a word, Emily turned the car on and began to back out. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as she pulled out of the parking garage and started to drive.

"Wanna tell me how you got into the FBI parking garage?" she asked, driving down the darkened street. "I promise I won't tell."

Doyle laughed a dark chuckle. "You know that doesn't matter," he said.

"Then why don't you tell me what you've been up to since getting here," she muttered, not bothering to argue with him. She knew he was right; it _didn't _matter how he'd gotten there.

"I've been watching you, Lauren," he explained. Shaking his head, he laughed. "Or, should I say, Emily Prentiss. Lauren Reynolds died in a car accident if I recall correctly."

Emily stared at the road, still wary of the gun pointed at her neck. "So you found out who I really was," she said. "Who squealed to you?"

He ignored her question. "You want to know what I've been up to while I've been here?" he said. "I've been watching you, looking at your habits, watching the life you live now. I must say, I'm impressed. You've gone from getting into the dirty, violent action with the likes of me, to a cushy, high position in one of the FBI's most elite units."

_He hasn't mentioned Noah yet, _she thought as he directed her to take a left. _Maybe he's bluffing about how closely he's been keeping tabs on me._

She stayed silent as he continued on.

"I've seen who you spend all your time with, your beloved team of FBI profilers," he sneered. "The young and brilliant Dr. Reid, who it's hard to believe would hold a position in that unit; David Rossi, the suave older agent who prefers stoogies and scotch with Tony Bennett; Jennifer Jareau, mother _and _profiler. That little boy of hers is quite the charming child."

Emily gulped. He knew about Henry. Her anxiety began to rise as they pulled up to a red light. The gun suddenly felt heavier against her neck, like at any moment it would wrap around her neck like a boa constrictor and cut off all her air.

"And what about our lovers, the Adonis-like Derek and the lovely Penelope?" he mused aloud to her. "There's some sexual chemistry that you don't see everyday."

Snorting, Emily stepped on the gas to go through the light as soon as it turned green. "Your 'surveillance' isn't as good as you would think it is, Ian," she snickered. "Morgan and Garcia's relationship is nothing like that." Her eyes glanced over at him briefly.

He arched a brow. "Oh?" he argued. "It would seem you're as clueless as Derek's lovely wife appears to be. The amount of time those two have spent in the backseat of his car since I've been watching all of you is rather shocking." He chuckled.

Emily's eyes went wide, but she kept them focussed on the road. She was curious about what Doyle knew, but that wasn't the most important thing on her mind. He'd gone through every member of the team but Aaron.

With the amount he knew about all the other team members though, he would obviously know about Aaron.

"And now we come to the stoic Agent Hotchner." Doyle's laugh deepened. "I must say, I can't understand what led you to marry him. But the obvious love he still has for you is…touching. Your relationship must have been a strong one that faltered. Although it's not because he knows about your past…it's because you wouldn't _tell_ him about your past."

Trying to keep her breath under control, she snarled at him, "The amount you know, you could be a profiler." But this conversation was scaring her to death. Doyle knew all this about the people she was closest to, the people she loved. What could he do with this knowledge? He could do everything to destroy her.

But he wasn't done yet.

"And Noah," he sighed. "Young, handsome Noah. He'll grow up to look just like his father. If he grows up, that is. You never know what could happen."

Heart pounding like a bass drum in her throat, Emily screeched to the side of the empty road. Her foot slammed on the brake so the car came to a screeching halt. She whipped her head to glare at him.

"You will _not _hurt my son," she hissed, her hands still gripping the steering wheel to the point her knuckles turned white. Had she squeezed any harder, she might have broken the wheel into pieces. "I will slide a knife across your throat before you get anywhere near him."

Glaring at her, Doyle moved the gun so he had it pressed directly in the center of her forehead. But even that did not frighten her. Her only fear was Doyle going after Noah and Declan. Although, in this moment, Declan was safer than Noah. No one knew where he was; Doyle evidently knew how to find her youngest child.

Doyle's smugness disappeared in a flash. His eyes glowed in the streetlight they were parked beneath, and she could see the seething hatred he felt for her.

"There _is _a way to keep him safe," he growled, pushing the gun into her forehead even harder. "You tell me where _my _son is. You stole him from me, and I want him back."

She glared at him. "I don't know where Declan is," she hissed. "And even if I did, I would die before I told you. I won't let him be subjected to the life you live. I won't let you put my first son through any of the terrorist activities you're involved in like it's the family business."

"Yes, you would be willing to die…but would you be willing to let Noah die?" he challenged. "Would you be willing to let Aaron die? Would you be willing to watch the people you love be torn apart, just to keep a father a way from his son?"

Emily felt a burning break out behind her eyes, but she kept the tears at bay. The threat to both her children and to Aaron and the team had become real, staring her in the face with a gun to her head.

"Come near any of them — my team, Aaron, my children," she warned, her voice scratchy and shaking, "and I will _end you_."

She and Doyle stared at one another, their eyes connected by an invisible bridge that kept them from blinking. Without warning, Doyle launched himself toward her and grasped her neck in a bruising grip. Air flooded out of her lungs as the back of her head slammed into the glass of the driver side window. Her hands clawed at his hand, but her nails being bitten to messy shreds gave her no opportunity to claw any skin off.

"You took the one thing that matters to me in this world," he hissed. "All those years in the prison in North Korea? The only thing that kept me from giving up was the thought of seeing my son again. You're going to find him, and you're going to give him to me." He released her neck, keeping the gun at her forehead. "I will have him, whether I have to scour this whole damned country or take your technical analyst and torture her until she finds him."

Violent coughs shook Emily's body as she gasped for air. When her coughing fit finished, she met his eyes once more — his eyes that never left her — and forced a murderous look onto her face.

"Declan is my son, too," she rasped. "I won't allow him into your violent world. You'll take him in, and people will target him in order to get to you. And then so many people will want to sink their claws into him that he'll get ripped apart." She shook her head. "I won't let you do that to him."

Removing his gun from Emily's forehead, Doyle made a move to exit the car. As he put his hand on the door knob, he turned back to her. "You have two options: find Declan, or lose your beloved younger son and ex-husband."

Emily stared at him as he exited the car. Before he closed the door, she hollered, "I _will_ kill you." It was a vow, a promise she planned on keeping until she fulfilled it.

Ian Doyle leaned down to peer inside the car once more. He merely chucked. "I'll be seeing you soon…_Emily_._"_

Then he was gone, walking down the street to who-knew-where.

Panicking, Emily kicked herself back into high gear. She needed Penelope to find Declan before Doyle did. He demanded she find him herself, but she knew he would be looking for him either way.

_Where is he_? she thought, holding back her tears. _Where's my son?_

Taking her car out of park, she zoomed back in the direction she and Doyle had driven. There were two thoughts in her mind: Declan and Noah. She didn't know where her eldest was, but she did know where her younger son was.

And right then, all she could think of was getting to him.

Fifteen minutes later — she had driven so fast she had cut ten minutes off travel time — she was running up to Aaron's apartment building. She pushed the button to his apartment and waited impatiently for him to answer. Reminding herself to remain composed so neither her ex-husband nor son could see her panic, she bit her thumb nail.

She just needed to see Noah.

With the fight coming to her, Tsia, and Clyde, she did not know if she would make it out. She needed to soak in as much time with Noah and Aaron as she could. Penelope would find Declan, and Emily would give her instructions on what to do if she got herself killed.

But one thing was for sure: whether or not Emily made it out of this, she would take Ian Doyle down.

"Hello?" Aaron said into his intercom.

Emily instantly jumped for the button to speak to him. "Aaron!" she breathed.

A short pause happened before he spoke again. "Emily? What are you doing here?"

Sucking in a breath, Emily tried to calm her shaking voice and body before responding. Aaron would see if something was wrong right away otherwise. "I, uh, I want to see Noah," she begged. She knew there was no hiding the plea in her voice.

"I'll let you, but he's asleep already," Aaron told her.

She shook her head, even though he could not see her. "Fine, that's fine," she muttered, distractedly. She knew for a fact Doyle was nowhere near here right now — she had left him miles away on the side of the road — but that didn't change her paranoia level.

Moments later, she heard the buzz of the door opening. She hurried to the second level where Aaron resided, and she discovered she did not even need to knock on the door. He stood waiting in the doorway, a look of concern on his face. His eyebrows sat, almost touching his hairline.

"Emily, what's going on?" he demanded as she pushed her way past him into his apartment. She cared little if it was rude; she needed to see her son before she spoke the words she needed to have Aaron hear.

Striding down the hall, Emily gently opened the door to her son's room. Because he was sound asleep, Noah's room was dark. A slit of the hallway light lit up the room enough so she could make her way to sit on the edge of his bed. With tears burning in the back of her eyes, Emily gazed at him. The only thoughts in her head were consumed with both Noah and Declan.

_How can I save them_? she asked herself as her hand went forward to stroke a piece of his hair back.

After several moments of staying with Noah, knowing full well Aaron stood right outside the door, Emily leaned down and kissed his head. Rising to her feet, she reluctantly left the room. She shut the door gently behind her. Sure enough, Aaron leaned against the wall, waiting for her.

He wasted no time in asking questions. "Emily…" he murmured, tired. He shook his head. "What…what is going on?"

Emily stared at her ex-husband for a long moment. She would never forgive herself if he got hurt because of her. Doyle would come after him too if he could. The difference between Noah and Aaron was Aaron could fight back. That wouldn't stop Doyle, though. Doyle's history lay in malicious terrorism and killing to get what he wanted.

Aaron was just as safe as anyone in her life: not at all.

Nipping at her nail, she accidentally bit down so hard she broke skin. She looked down at her finger and watched a dribble of blood trickle down her thumb. Without saying a word, she retreated down the hall to the living room where she wouldn't wake her sleeping son.

"Emily, you can tell me," Aaron urged, following after her. "I know we…" His voice trailed off, and Emily knew why. Their marriage did not include much sharing of feelings, and saying the words did not come easily to either of them.

But Aaron ignored that and pushed forward. "I know we don't have the greatest history of sharing what's going on with us," he said. "But everyone is seeing something is going on with you. I tried and tried to figure it out, but it wasn't until I heard you and Garcia talking about a boy who you have her looking for that I got any hint."

At the mention of his confession, Emily's head bent. A mere two single tears dripped from both her eyes, but no more came from her burning eyes.

_Tell him_, her inner voice whispered. _Let him help. Doyle's right; he still loves me. He'll help me._

But the weight of her lies and the fear of Doyle harming Aaron and Noah took over her, crippling her logic and rational mind. She did not find it in herself to even look up at him. Her gaze on the floor, though, got drawn up again when he cupped her face in his hands. The feel of his skin against hers spread a warmth through her she had missed for the years of their divorce.

"I —" she choked. Something stopped her from telling him, though. Her tongue swelled up, stopping the words before they could come out. She would rather protect him and have him protect their son. "I just…"

She grasped one of his wrists as he held her face. With her other hand, she pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him. Her lips just barely brushed his. He kissed her back just as gently, his hands moving from her face to her waist. She broke the kiss after a moment, and rested her forehead against his.

"Keep him safe," she murmured, savoring the scent of him and the heat of his body. "Keep him safe, even when I can't."

Aaron tilted her face up to look him directly in the eye. Confusion clouded his features. "Emily, why would you not be able to keep Noah safe? What's wrong?" he whispered.

She shook her head and removed herself from his arms. Doyle's words rang in her ears.

_You have two options: find Declan, or lose your beloved younger son and ex-husband._

Emily was running out of options, but everyone else came before her. She would sacrifice herself before putting Aaron or her children in any form of danger. Telling Aaron anything about Doyle would only place him right in the way of a speeding truck on a highway.

"I can't tell you," she said. "But you'll know some day. I promise you that."

Without waiting for another word from Aaron, Emily turned on her heel and strode out of the apartment.

XXXXX

Penelope sat in the clinic examination room in the medical gown the nurse forced her to put on. She didn't understand why the nurse wanted her in a gown, nor did she understand why her blood had to get drawn, when it was likely just an antibiotic she needed.

_"_It's just standard procedure," the nurse had told her before leaving with a vial of her blood and a clipboard with her vitals.

Crossing her arms over chest, she waited patiently for the doctor to arrive. She stared up at the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. Savannah's visit to her office yesterday and the fact she would be picking up Sam from the airport tomorrow only increased the amount of guilt she felt for her actions the past six months. She and Derek were equally guilty parties in this affair of theirs, but somehow all she could think of was her role in it.

The previous night she'd thrown up every ounce of food she'd eaten and cried into her pillow. Nothing felt comfortable or honest in her life. She had hurt both her fiancee and a wonderful friend; Emily had her secretly chasing a boy all over kingdom come with no explanation as to why; she had gained several pounds and her wedding gown was going to need serious tailoring.

What made everything worse — and part of what made it worse was it should not have been the worst part — was she had fallen deeply in love with the man she was engaging in an affair with.

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you cry baby, _she thought to herself. It was a well-deserved scolding as her eyes filled with tears. _No one needs your tears. You don't deserve to cry._

A knock on the door broke Penelope out of her daze of self pity. Hurriedly, she wiped her eyes and called, "Come in!"

The door opened to reveal the clinic doctor. Striding toward her, the doctor gave her a kind smile and stuck out his hand for her to shake.

"Hello there, Ms. Garcia," he said as they shook hands. "I'm Dr. Faul, the clinic doctor. How are you feeling right now?"

Penelope nodded and gulped, dropping the doctor's hand. "Well, not super great," she muttered. "I've been sick for a little while, and I think I'm coming down with the flu. It's going around at work it looks like, so I was just hoping to get an antibiotic or something."

Dr. Faul's brow arched, and he sat down on the stool in front of her. "Ms. Garcia," he said. "I'm not sure how to put this for you…"

Her eyes went wide, and concern flooded through her. "What? What is it?" she asked, her voice hoarse. She hoped to God she didn't have anything worse, like an infection or something in her blood or —

"No!" The doctor's voice rang loud through the room, breaking her thoughts. A smile brightened his face immediately as he tried to set her fears to rest. "Oh, no, no!" he assured her, patting her hand. "It's not anything fatal or harmful."

She couldn't even bring herself to breathe a sigh of relief. The doctor had yet to tell her what the problem with her was. Shrugging in irritation, Penelope asked, "Well? What is it? Just the flu?"

"Oh, it's not the flu at all," he said. "In fact, it's some good news for you." He smiled a broad grin. "Congratulations, Ms. Garcia…you're pregnant."

**If you got this one with the gibberish, I'm so sorry about that! I reposted :)**


	16. Four Leaf Clover -A Meeting in the Night

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Hey guys! A HUGE apology for the late release on this. School has been INSANE for me, so writing time has been hard to come by. I hate to keep you waiting.**

**This being said, thank you so much for your reviews. I'm glad to see you're liking it. This one has Derek, Emily, and a surprise POVs. Obviously we've got some plot details to work out, so I'll get on with the chapter ;) Thanks again for your reviews and support!**

**Warning: The second POV contains violent imagery. Please be cautious.**

Derek sat at his desk, staring blankly at the mahogany with a vacant expression on his face. Today marked the return of Sam, the day he dreaded since he realized his feelings for Penelope went deeper than mere sexual attraction. His heart sported small cracks in it that he worried would break open and bleed through his body like a flood.

Their last night together was yet another one when Savannah had the night shift. After they finished and lay beneath Penelope's sheets, tears poured from her eyes. For a moment, he swore he would hear she was devastated at Sam's return and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

He could not have been more wrong.

"_Why are you crying, sweetheart?" he murmured, pulling her closer to his chest. He pecked her lips._

_Sniffling, Penelope shook her head. She looked like there was something desperate to release itself from her mouth. Her mouth opened, then shut again before she burst into a series of sobs. He sat up and pulled her into his arms and allowed her to cry against his bare skin. Kissing the top of her head, he murmured in her ear that everything would be okay._

_He almost took initiative himself and told her how much he loved her. But she still seemed set on marrying Sam, and he knew she did not want to break the promise they made when they first began their affair. They would use each other until they could fall back in love with their significant others._

_Problem was, he simply wouldn't be able to fall back in love with Savannah._

"_Savannah came to my office to talk to me," Penelope wept, holding him tightly around the waist. "She — she…"_

_Derek halted. "Did she say she found out?" Maybe this would be his way out…maybe he could finally tell Penelope!_

_Penelope looked up at him with bloodshot, puffy eyes. "No, no," she whispered with a hoarse voice. "She doesn't know it's me. But she knows you're having an affair." She shook her head. "She came to me as a friend, and I'm the one who is hurting her!"_

"_She won't know," he lied. "I'll be fully committed to her again, just like you'll be committed to Sam again."_

_Penelope stared at him with wide, sorrowful eyes. She released him and moved to get off the bed, one of her hands moving to rub her stomach. Slowly, she began to dress herself. Derek stared at her. Where he could usually read her, he was utterly lost now. The woman he knew so well became a pure enigma to him in that moment._

_She stopped in front of her mirror and stared at her reflection for a long moment. He rose to go to her, and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Resting his chin in the crook of her neck, he kissed her skin._

"_It'll be okay, Baby Girl," he whispered._

_Turning in his arms, she pressed her lips to his. "It's over," she murmured. "This is all burned out of my system…is it out of yours?"_

_Her words stung. He could not find words in him to describe how sore his heart felt._

No! _he wanted shout. _No, this won't burn out of my system! I want you…only you.

_He nodded. "Yeah…yeah it is." His words came out flat, but she seemed to believe his lie. He would bury his feelings, and move on._

_He could bounce back. He _would _bounce back. He was a survivor. _

As he sat at his desk, nothing but emptiness inside him, his phone buzzed with a text. Grumbling to himself, he checked the ID and saw it was Hotch messaging both him and Prentiss.

_Got something for you,_ the text read. _Come to my office ASAP._

Rising to heavy feet, Derek made his way out of the office and started striding toward Hotch's office. His shoulders slumped with dejection, and he hoped to high heaven he did not cross paths with Penelope on his way there.

They had talked about things remaining normal after these past months, but now he was unsure. It never could without him remembering the feel of her lips against his, the warmth of her voluptuous curves seared into his skin. He would always want her.

He reached the bullpen and pulled the door open, seeing that Prentiss stood just ahead of him outside Hotch's door.

"Prentiss," he called, going up the ramp to stand beside her.

She turned and nodded to him, the same vacant expression in her eyes that he himself felt inside. Now he was morphing into what his friend had been for the last months.

"What's up, Morgan?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I was about to ask you that," he said. "What does Hotch have for us, do you know?"

She shook her head. "Not a clue." Raising her hand to the door, she knocked sharply. They waited for Hotch to call that they could enter.

When they walked into the office, they found Hotch sitting at his desk, scribbling away at a stack of paperwork. He looked up at them and rose to his feet. Derek noticed how Hotch kept his gaze away from Emily, mostly focusing on Derek. To distract from his own problems with Penelope, he chose to focus on the dynamic between his boss and his friend.

Something clearly was going on with the two of them. Emily stared down at her nails, the ones bitten down to nothing; Hotch kept his gaze away from her. Derek arched a brow, but he kept his mouth closed.

"What do you need us for?" Derek asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Something local."

Hotch nodded. "Yes," he said. "I've already told Garcia to meet you by the elevator with the majority of the information, but they need you to come and consult on this murder."

Derek nearly missed Emily's question, he became so distracted at the thought of Penelope being near him soon. He snapped back into the moment though, knowing he needed to keep his attention on the case at hand.

"What makes it so strange that they need us to give them a preliminary profile?" Emily asked, frowning.

Keeping his face in its usual stoic manner, Hotch glanced down at his watch before answering her. "The victim's head was removed and placed in her own lap."

Derek nodded. "We'll want to get there right away then to see the scene," he said, moving to go to the door of Hotch's office once more. He noticed neither Hotch nor Emily made a move, and once again he frowned. What in the hell was going on with them. "So…I'll just grab my jacket and meet you at the elevators, Prentiss."

Emily shook her head abruptly. Her head snapped in Derek's direction. "Sure, sure," she mumbled, distracted. "I'll meet you there."

Shaking his head, Derek exited the room and went to fetch his jacket and tablet from his office. As he grabbed his things, he glanced at the clock. Penelope would be picking Sam up at six in the evening at the airport. Uncertainty struck him; would he be able to look at Sam when he got back without throttling him when he saw his hands on Penelope?

Time sat before him, ticking away as it stared back him. He wanted to punch that damn clock for being a reminder he would truly be losing Penelope as soon as the hands aligned directly at the twelve and the six.

Shaking his head, he left his office. He needed to think about the decapitated woman the DC Police had called them in for a consult on. Walking down the hall, he made his way to the elevators. When he reached them, he halted in his step. Standing there, waiting with patience, was Penelope. She had yet to see him, giving him a moment to observe her.

Though she was ready to give him and Prentiss the information Hotch told her to, she looked miserable, almost ill. Her cheeks had no color to them, despite the makeup she wore, and her eyes lacked the sparkle he saw in them, that he loved so much. Her posture lacked its usual flawlessness as she stood with one hand resting on her abdomen and the other holding the files for him and Prentiss.

The realization of just how much her guilt affected her hit him full force as she stared blankly out the small window next to the elevator. He'd known how she felt about all this, but all the while he assured her they would be fine, that they were just letting some sexual tension out of their systems.

Sure, recently he started to feel the guilt of what he was doing to Savannah, whether she knew it or not; but seeing Penelope like this had the ability to destroy him.

_What have I done? _he thought, mournfully. _How could I do this to her if I love her?_

There was nothing he wanted to do more than throw himself at her feet and beg her to forgive him for putting her through this.

"Garcia!"

Before Derek could go to Penelope, Emily calling her name beat him to it. Penelope turned around to see him and Emily coming toward her. She glanced briefly at Derek before directing her attention to Emily. "Hey, Prentiss," she said, her voice falling flat. She held out the information folder she had prepared for them, waiting for Emily to accept it. "Here's everything you'll need."

"Thanks," Emily said, taking the file from Penelope and pressing the elevator button down. Their eyes met, and a strange expression crossed both their faces that did not go unseen by Derek. "We'll see you when we get back."

Penelope nodded. "Yes," she gulped. She arched a brow at Emily, and her eye twitched ever so slightly. Her eyes darted to Derek's once more, but only for a split moment before she strode away as fast as her three inch heels would take her.

Derek and Emily stepped into the elevator when the doors opened. Their last glimpse of Penelope as the doors closed was the sight of her blonde locks as she turned the corner and out of sight.

"What's going on with everyone today?" Derek grunted, taking one of the two folders Prentiss gave him. So far today he'd had a total of one normal conversation, and it had been with Reid.

For him to call a conversation with Reid normal meant something was severely off.

Emily glanced up at him from the file in her hands and shrugged. "No idea," she said, brushing off his question like a speck of dust from her shoulder. After a moment though, she looked back up at him. A different sort of question lay in her eyes this time. "What's going on with _you _and Garcia? You two haven't been acting like your normal selves."

It was Derek's turn to shrug. He knew she wanted to change the subject, avoiding any possibility of them drifting to the display of strange behavior from her and Hotch. He didn't care, though. They both could keep their secrets; he would be fine with that.

"Nothing," he lied. "She's just a little nervous about Sam getting back. She was telling me that she spent the whole night cleaning, so I think she might just be tired."

Emily arched a brow at him, her eyes narrowing. "Please, _please _tell me that is all that is going on," she said. "Because if something is going on — and don't think I haven't noticed she's been acting strange — and _you're _the one making her that way, I'll hunt you down, Morgan. She's in love with Sam. I don't want someone messing that up for her."

Derek gulped, horrified she might know something. Then something entered his mind, something darker than he thought he could display toward Prentiss.

"I'm never going to hurt her," he growled. Before he could stop himself, words came pouring out of his mouth that should not have. "She means more to me than anyone, so don't you _dare _tell me I would hurt her."

Still staring at him, Emily's eyes narrowed even more. "Let's just get to this scene," she hissed. "We can talk about this later."

Somehow, Derek had no doubt in his mind he would be hearing from Emily later on.

XXXXX

Emily and Morgan arrived at the scene where the Washington DC police waited for them. One officer stood outside the gate waiting for them. The moment he saw her, he came forward and shook their hands.

"Agents, I'm Officer Hartlet," he said, starting for the door of the house. "We were glad to get you on such short notice. This one…well, we're not quite sure what to think. This is the first decapitation I've ever come across in my fifteen years on the force."

Emily frowned, even though Hartlet continued on. She stared at the house. This was no place someone lived. It looked almost like a crashpad rather than a dwelling. Her blood ran cold for a moment, and her flesh prickled with goosebumps. Something didn't seem right.

"We're wondering right now if this might be a hate crime," Hartlet said as they entered the house.

Morgan arched a brow. "Hate crime?"

Hartlet nodded. "Our victim looks Middle Eastern. I don't know where from, and I didn't want to speculate before we ID her, but she's definitely from across the pond."

Head snapping in Hartlet's direction, Emily's eyes went wide. Something was about to be revealed she knew she did not want to find out.

Wiping her forehead with a clammy hand, she gulped. "Other than the…" She could hardly say it. "…_decapitation_, was there anything else about this MO that was unique?"

Hartlet grimaced. He halted in front of an archway, shaking his head. "She's around this corner," he said. Looking away from Emily and Morgan, he sighed. "I'm sorry. I've got to give you space for this. I can't go back in there right now."

Morgan nodded. "Of course," he said. Looking at Emily, he jerked his head toward the arch. "Let's do this."

Emily, forcing down the screaming sirens in her head warning her against going around the corner, followed him. They went around the corner, and she braced herself for what she knew was coming.

They found her sitting against the wall, or rather, what was left of her. The body, as they were told, had no head; the head sat in her lap. Her eyes were wide with shock, staring lifelessly at the blank beige hallway wall in front of her. The dark brown hair on her head lay matted against her head, strands caught in dry blood. Pieces of it were caught in the dried blood on a cut on her cheek. Only it wasn't just any cut; this was a marking someone had carved into the woman's face.

It was a four leaf clover, crudely engraved into the skin of the woman's face.

Emily fought the urge to gag as she stared into the lifeless eyes of Tsia Mosley. The body of her friend sat slumped against the wall, the mark of Ian Doyle marring her features.

"The bastard who did this is one sick son of a bitch," Morgan muttered, going around the other side of Tsia's body. He knelt down beside her and looked at the clover. "He's got a signature. And it looks like…"

Morgan's voice drifted out of Emily's ears as she stared at Tsia's butchered body. A ringing grew in her ears to the point she thought she had gone deaf. Her stomach churned viciously. Bile rose in her throat, and she began to sway unsteadily on her feet. How had Doyle found Tsia? Tsia and Clyde had been laying low since arriving in the States. What had happened to blow Tsia's cover? And equally as important, would Clyde's cover be blown?

"Prentiss?"

Emily's gaze got drawn back to her partner as he knelt on the ground beside the body. He looked up at her with an arched brow.

"What?" she asked, tersely.

He rose to his feet once more, crossing his arms over his chest. "What's going on with you?" he asked. "You look like you're about to be sick."

Swallowing hard, Emily pointed toward the arch they'd gone through. "I haven't been feeling right all day, and this is too much." She coughed, hoping to keep the vomit down. She needed to save that for when she got outside. "I'm going to…I'm going to call the rest of the team and tell them about this while I go outside."

She would tell the team what happened, but with them not being formally invited on the case, she was spared of having to tell them any details.

Observing her a moment, Morgan nodded. "Alright," he said. "I'll be out soon."

Nodding, Emily all but dashed from the room and out of the house. She tried breathing in the cool fall air, hoping and praying it would keep her from vomiting. Not even the fresh air filling her lungs, though, could help banish the image of her friend's mangled body from her head. She grasped the chain link fence as she bent over and puked up the contents of her stomach.

When she was finished, she pulled her secure phone she used to talk to Tsia and Clyde from her pants pocket. She dialed Clyde as quickly as she could with her shaking fingers. After several rings, she received no answer.

"Dammit!" she swore. She hoped and prayed this did not mean Clyde was already dead.

_Clyde is good at staying hidden. He's much better at this than Tsia ever was. Maybe he knows that Tsia is dead and already —_

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her mind was racing, and she refused to let it dominate her. If she did, it put her on edge. If she did, it gave Doyle an advantage over her.

_Keep it together, Prentiss, _she told herself sternly.

"You alright, Prentiss?"

Emily turned to see Morgan standing behind her, hands in his pockets as he scrutinized her. She nodded, moving her hair from her face. "Yeah," she muttered. "Fine."

"No," he said. "You're not. Something about that woman triggered whatever shit you've been going through these past few months." When she opened her mouth to speak, he held up his hand to silence her. "Don't give me any bullshit, Prentiss. None of us are blind. If you thought we were, you got into the wrong profession."

Immediately, she narrowed her eyes. "Back off, Morgan," she snarled. "I'm not in the mood. Let's just talk to the cops and give them something to help solve this so we can get the hell out of here."

_No amount of help we give them is going to help them catch Doyle, _her inner voice whispered as she stalked away from Morgan. _Only you can do that._

XXXXX

Ian Doyle sat on a bench outside the Jefferson Memorial in Washington DC. He observed the night sky above him, painted black and navy with the full moon glistening behind wisps of clouds. Long ago he might have relished the sight of it. Lauren used to stare at the sky with him when they lived in the villa. They would stare at the sky with Declan and count stars until the little boy fell asleep in his arms.

Those days were gone though. Gone, just like his son. Gone, just like the woman he once loved.

All that remained was a hole in his very being that Declan once filled, and a woman named Emily Prentiss.

Even the thought of Emily's name made his blood boil. His hands unconsciously clenched into fists at the thought of his son being taken from him by an agent from Interpol. An agent he made the mistake of falling in love with.

_So blind_, he thought.

"You're a bit out in the open for a man in your situation," a voice said behind him.

Doyle did not bother to turn around. His lips merely quirked into a smirk. "You're late," he muttered.

His guest sat beside him on the bench and shrugged. "I was caught up watching the lovely Agent Jareau's house…as you requested," he said. "You wanted me to watch her team before you got here, and you wanted me to keep watching them so you could get your _own_ team assembled."

"The few times I've been able to get a glimpse of them, I'm not impressed," Doyle remarked. "An awkward genius, a family and job oriented woman, a man who has more money than he does sense, two co-workers fucking the others brains out, and a lack luster leader who never smiles." He chuckled. "Not ones who I would think the likes of the liar Lauren Reynolds would be interested in."

He had yet to adjust to her real name.

"_Emily Prentiss_," his associate corrected. "Lauren Reynolds, for all intents and purposes, died. The woman who birthed your child is dead. The woman who you loved is dead. All that's left is the liar in her true form."

Doyle knew his associate spoke the truth. He also knew he would crush the liar until all that remained of her would be a smashed excuse of a life. No, he would not kill her. He would keep her alive so she could witness the destruction of her family, and her technical analyst who was beloved to her. The rest of the Behavioral Analysis Unit was innocent, clean. The lovely Penelope was helping Emily to keep Declan from him. She needed to be eliminated as well.

"Keep helping me, and you can help me destroy her," Doyle promised the man next to him.

"And I _will_," his helper said. "Her Penelope is nearing the end of her search for Declan. I've tapped Emily's phone and know what they know. And Emily will spend the rest of her life suffering, knowing she caused the deaths of her lover, son, and friend. And with you having your son — taken away where she will never find him — her life will be over as she knows it."

Doyle smiled with a malice that brought him joy, the first joy he had known in years. "That's all I want," he snarled.


	17. Doyle on the Move

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Here's the next one! More turmoil and angst in store for the four protagonists. I'm putting them through the ringer a lot more. That happy ending is going to come at a price for them. Thank you so much for your kind reviews and feedback, and I hope you'll like this one :)**

"Why're you up so early, sweetheart?" Sam mumbled sleepily. He looked up at Penelope as she started putting her clothes on for work. She looked over at her fiancé as he woke from his deep slumber.

Her gut clenched. His arrival the previous evening should have been one of the happier moments in her life, but everything had changed.

Everything consisting of an affair that made her fall in love with another man, and a pregnancy three and a half months along.

Every strange instance from the past months made sense now. Getting physically ill, her dress not fitting, mood swings. It all made sense. She could not believe she had not noticed anything.

"_I can't be pregnant," she sputtered after the doctor announced the "good" news. All her limbs shook, and her throat dried up like the Sahara. "I really can't be!" She was damn near ready to beg the doctor to take it back._

_The doctor shrugged and took a seat on a stool in front of Penelope. "Well, you are," he informed her. "Three and a half, almost four months, I'd guess."_

_She shook her head vigorously. "No, I mean I _really_ can't be!" she cried. "I'm on birth control! This shouldn't happen, right?"_

"_Well, there are circumstances where the birth control will fail," the doctor explained. "For instance, if you forget to take pills. If it's an inconsistent dosing, you'll be susceptible to pregnancy."_

As soon as Penelope returned home from her appointment, she'd checked her birth control pack. Just in the last month she'd missed four pills. She could not fathom how many she must have missed in the total six months Sam had been gone.

What she knew for sure, though, was she had a baby on the way who would be the child of Derek Morgan, a man who clearly did not want children.

Everything had changed.

Penelope gave Sam a weak smile as she pulled the zipper of her skirt up. She grimaced when it took a moment longer than it should have to pull the zipper all the way up. Now her regular clothes were getting tight.

"I'm up early because I have to work, silly man," she murmured, leaning over to kiss the top of his head. Her lips were stiff against his head. His head somehow just wasn't _smooth _enough for her. "You're still feeling the jet lag, I bet."

He shrugged, a tired grin gracing his face. "You'd be right," he murmured. "You keep getting ready, sweetie…kiss me goodbye before you leave."

She couldn't say anything. Her voice clogged in her throat, and she chose to work on getting ready rather than responding. Going to the bathroom, she closed the door gently behind her. Staring at herself in the mirror, she watched helplessly as tears welled up in her eyes. Tears fell from her eyes, and she put her fist to her face to keep from sobbing loudly.

_How do I break his heart?_ she thought to herself. _How do I destroy him?_

With mechanical arms, she dried her eyes with a piece of rolled up piece of toilet paper and started putting on her makeup. She made sure to crack open her waterproof eye makeup she'd bought for her wedding — the wedding she would have to cancel now — just in case she began sobbing at work.

She couldn't imagine her eyes would stay dry the whole day.

When she turned sideways, she caught sight of her appearance in the mirror. Her belly had grown enough that she had a bump, but thankfully right now it only looked like she was gaining weight.

_This isn't going to last long_, she thought mournfully, placing her hands over her bump.

Shaking her head, she left the bathroom. Going to Sam's side, she rubbed his shoulder. "I'm leaving for work, Sam," she whispered, absentminded.

His eyes fluttered open once more, and he looked up at her with bleary eyes. He frowned. "Waz wrong, Penelope?" he murmured. "You look like you're ready to cry."

_Oh, shit_, she thought. _He noticed something_.

She forced a smile. "I'm okay, swee…" Her voice trailed off. She couldn't find it in her to call Sam a pet name anymore. Her tongue couldn't manage it. Instead, she smoothed back some of his hair and sighed. "I'm leaving now. I'll see you later."

Sam smiled sleepily. "I love you," he mumbled as he drifted back off to sleep.

She was thankful he had fallen asleep again. She knew for sure she wouldn't have been able to say she loved him back.

XXXXX

The BAU was quiet that day. Everyone had their own tasks to work on, and for that Penelope was thankful. She didn't have it in her to deal with anyone today.

As soon as she'd arrived at work that morning, she caught sight of Derek and Savannah at the door to his office. All at once, her heart shattered from the heartbreak and her stomach exploded with guilt at seeing Savannah. Neither of them saw her, and she thanked whatever higher power there was for that.

After seeing the man she loved locking lips with his wife, she broke. She dashed to her office to hide herself away and focus on finding Declan for Emily.

Rubbing her belly, Penelope took her glasses off and massaged her temples. Her tear ducts had dried up hours ago. Now they were emptied, and she had nothing but a hollow heart left. Right now, all she wanted was for something to ping in her search for Declan so Emily's mind might be put at ease. Not to mention it would give her herself something else to focus on.

As she sat in silence at her computer, her mind raced. Her thoughts jumped from place to place. She felt her heart compress inwardly until she thought it would shrivel from the stress. Everything in her body became lead, and she stayed perfectly still, not wanting to move ever again.

While she sat with her head in her hands, a soft knock sounded from the door. She jumped in her seat, startled. She kept her mouth closed, waiting to hear who would speak.

"Penelope?"

Her already shriveled heart froze in its current beat. Why was he here? What did he want? If she stayed quiet, he would go away. Lunchtime would be coming to a close. Maybe he'd think she was still out.

"Penelope, are you in there?" he asked once more, his voice even softer.

Despite her best wishes, tears welled up in her eyes. Some spilled out down her cheeks, and she pressed her face further into her hands. She bit her lip to keep from sobbing.

_Why did he have to come here? _she screamed inwardly.

On the other side of the door, she made out a faint sigh, followed by retreating footsteps. Releasing her hand from her mouth, Penelope let out a sharp cry of anguish. She wished this pain would disappear, erasing all evidence of her infidelity and love for Derek. She wanted it all gone so she could get on with her life.

_That will never happen, _she told herself, looking down at her belly.

As she wiped her cheeks, a beeping filled her office. It took her a moment to realize what it was. Squinting, she pushed her glasses on and looked toward the blinking screen where the noise originated from. She nearly jumped for joy at the opportunity for a distraction.

Penelope rolled her chair closer to the screen. Her eyes scanned blinking text, and her mouth dropped open. Forcing her tears back into their respective ducts, she shot to her feet.

"I…I need to find Emily!" she said to herself, frantic. She rushed from her office and down the hall. Her heels took her as fast as they could, but she still needed to move on careful feet to avoid tripping. She made her way toward the bullpen, keeping her eyes peeled for Emily the whole time. Coming into view of the bullpen itself, Penelope peered through the glass until she saw the raven hair of her friend.

Ripping the door open, Penelope rushed in and strode to Emily's desk, ignoring the smiles of JJ and Reid as they looked up at her. Emily looked up at her only when Penelope got to her side.

"Come with me," Penelope ordered, jerking her head in the direction of the bullpen door.

Emily took one look at Penelope's face and nodded swiftly. She jumped to her feet and followed Penelope out of the bullpen. When they got out and into the hallway leading to Penelope's office, she spoke. "What is it?" she asked, grasping Penelope's forearm. "What did you find?"

Swallowing hard, Penelope stopped in front of the door to her office where they just arrived. She met Emily's eyes and nodded once.

"I found him," Penelope breathed. "I found Declan."

XXXXX

The words _I found Declan _filled Emily's ears, causing her to nearly faint. Her throat dried up. When she attempted to speak, her voice came out tough and scraggly.

"You…you _found _him?" she choked, not breaking gazes with Penelope.

Her friend stared back at her, unblinking. "I found him," Penelope confirmed. "And he's closer than we thought he would be." She burst into her office, leaving room for Emily to follow after. "Much, _much _closer. I did a search of all schools surrounding DC — just as a starting point in case they somehow happened to be here — and branched out. His description came up in one of them, along with a pseudonym: Declan Harrison."

Emily closed the door behind her and hurried after Penelope to the computer to see the location. Her mouth dropped.

"That town is three hours outside of DC," she breathed. She looked at Penelope, determination burning up her insides. "How…how was he right here this whole time?"

"I'm sending you the address on your phone — " Penelope began.

Emily put her hand on Penelope's shoulder, clamping down on it forcefully. "No," she snapped. "No, don't send it to my phone! You can't do that." She didn't want anyone to be able to trace her.

Penelope whirled around in her chair to face Emily. Her face scrunched into scowl. "Then I'll write it down for you," she huffed. "But first, you have to tell me who he is. I've helped you find him, you've told me it's a danger to me to tell me anything, but you know what? I don't care! You're gonna tell me who Declan is. Right _now_."

Taken back at her usually-chipper friend being harsh and abrasive, Emily blinked. She didn't know if she should or could tell Penelope. She owed her the answer, but would that answer be worth the danger?

"Penelope, I can't —"

Shaking her head, Penelope rose to her feet. Normally they stood at the same height, but when Penelope wore heels, she stood taller than Emily by several inches. Her expression shifted to one of fury, and Emily felt small in comparison.

"I have been helping you for _months _Emily!" she stormed. "Those months have been some of the worst of my life, and you demanding me to find Declan every five minutes hasn't helped make them any easier! Who. Is. He?"

The pain in Penelope's eyes as she spoke shined down at Emily, blinding her. Doyle's words rang in her ears once again. His idea that Penelope and Derek had been sleeping together no longer seemed like just an idea. That and Derek's earlier behavior told her everything she needed to know.

With the new realization of what had happened, Emily caved. She would be back in several hours again to protect Penelope. She could give her what she wanted for now. "You cannot tell anyone," she whispered. "I'll explain everything to them when I get back."

Penelope scrutinized her carefully before crossing her arms over her chest and pulling her sweater tighter around her. "Tell me," she said.

Rubbing her forehead, Emily took a shaky deep breath. "A long time ago, when I was working for the CIA and then Interpol, I was assigned a case with a terrorist involved in the IRA," she began. "My job was to infiltrate his organization and expose him so we could bring him in. The man's name is Ian Doyle." She could almost feel the blood drain from her face as she continued on. "I seduced him and posed as his lover to get into the group."

She paused before she made the big revelation to a shocked Penelope. "Several months in, I found out I was pregnant," she whispered.

Penelope's mouth dropped open. "You - you have another son?" she breathed.

Emily ignored the question and went on. "It stretched out the operation for years, much longer than it should have been. I was slowed down by having to protect Declan. The only people who knew he was my son were Ian, my team member Sean, Declan's nanny Louise, and the people living at Ian's villa. Now…all of them are dead, except Ian and Louise. When Ian was finally arrested, there was a bloodbath at the villa. Everyone died when the team and the army moved in. I'd been planning to get Declan out for months. Louise was going to take him, and I was meant to meet them in the States. We were going to start over, without Ian's world destroying Declan's chance at a happy life."

She fell into silence. Memories of losing Louise and Declan flooded back to her heart broke all over. "I couldn't find them. They…they got lost, and I haven't seen them since. I looked for several years, but then I realized that Declan might be better without his damaged mother who slept with a terrorist for a case she was working on. So I moved on. I found Aaron, and had Noah." Tears actually filled her eyes. "I think about him every day, though. Every single day."

Penelope frowned. "Why did you just come to me now about finding him?" she asked. "I would have helped you years ago."

"I only came to you now because Ian broke out of prison," Emily explained. "He broke out, and started making his way back here. He killed all of my team, except for my colleague, Clyde Easter. The woman Morgan and I went to investigate yesterday?"

Penelope's face drained of blood. "The one who was miss…missing a head?"

Emily nodded. "Yes. Tsia. She was on my team. He's been picking us all off." She sighed. "Now, Ian is coming for me. He's looking for Declan, and I need to find him to protect him." Quieting again, Emily covered her hand over her mouth. "He's…he's also going to try and go after Aaron and Noah. He wants to take everything from me."

Shaking her head, Penelope took Emily's hand. "Well he won't," she said with confidence. "We'll keep them all safe."

Emily gave Penelope a small smile and squeezed her hand. "We're going to try." Looking at her hands, she sighed. "I'm going to get him," she murmured. "I want you to be ready. We'll need to hide Declan."

"I'll be ready and waiting. Bring him to my apartment," Penelope said. "Sa — Sam and I will keep him safe while we figure out how to bring down Doyle. Then you'll _all_ be safe." Her eyes became glassy as she stumbled over her fiancé's name.

Before she could go, Emily needed to ask the question. "Penelope," she murmured. "I…are you in love with Sam still? Or are you in love with someone else?"

Face draining of blood, Penelope's eyes went wide. "What…why…why are you asking me this?" she croaked.

The answer was right in front of Emily. "You aren't, are you?" she asked, even though she knew the truth now. Penelope said nothing, so Emily took the opportunity to speak again. "It's Derek." It wasn't a question.

All it was was the truth.

Tears fell in silence down Penelope's cheeks. "How did you know?" she whispered.

"I just figured it out," she replied. Placing a hand on Penelope's shoulder, she gave it a squeeze. Remembering the words Derek said about Penelope being the most important person to him, and the knowledge of their affair said there was something deeper for the two best friends. "I think you need to tell him."

Penelope said nothing, and Emily nodded once. She needed to let Penelope work out her feelings on her own. Declan needed to be found. Looking back at the computer screen, she scribbled out the address. She started for the door.

"Emily?" Penelope called.

Emily turned back to look at her friend. Even though Penelope looked miserable, she nodded to her. "Good luck," she whispered.

All Emily could do was give her friend a nod before she took off out the door, clutching the piece of paper with the address on it.

XXXXX

As Emily reached the highway and merged into a lane, her phone rang. She answered it without bothering to see who it was. Her eyes stayed too focused on the road.

"Prentiss," she said.

"Hello, Lauren," _he_ replied.

Her blood ran cold. "How did you get this number?" Her grip on the steering wheel tightened to the point her knuckles turned white.

"I have my ways," Doyle said.

She huffed. "So what's the point of this? To call me and tell me you've got my number? What are you going to do, prank call me a bunch?"

He laughed. "No, no, Lauren," he growled. His voice turned hard as a block of iron. "I'm calling you to tell you that your time is up."

Rolling her eyes, she switched lanes, not bothering to turn her blinker on. "My time for what?"

"For returning my son to me," he said. "You're out of time. So now, I'm going after your son."

Panic filled her heart. "Stay the hell away from my son!" she screeched. Her voice echoed through the confines of her car, piercing her eardrums.

"I will return your precious Noah to you when you've given me my son back," Doyle snapped. "We'll call it a trade."

"You'll never get to them!" Emily snapped. "To _anyone _I love."

Doyle chuckled. "Oh, _Emily_," he murmured, his voice soft as a snake's hiss. "I know where your little boy goes to school. I will find him as soon as I can, and I'll take him away from you until I get Declan back. This story can end happily for little Noah…but only if I get Declan back."

Without another word, he hung up the phone. Emily's breath sped up to the point she started to hyperventilate. School would be out for Noah in one hour. Doyle wouldn't go in guns blazing, so it gave her time. He would wait until school was out and Noah was headed to the bus.

"Aaron," she breathed. Hurriedly, she dialed her ex-husband's number. Much to her dismay, the phone call went straight to voicemail.

_You've reached Aaron Hotchner. Leave a message._

When she heard the beep, she slammed her finger on the hang up button. She couldn't imagine what Aaron was up to, but it likely had to do with a meeting at work. Usually he answered her calls. Tears of frustration filled her eyes. She needed someone to pick Noah up immediately. Blindly, she punched in Morgan's number, hoping with all her heart he would answer.

_Please answer, please answer, please answer!_ she screamed in her head. She forced herself to try and breathe. She bid her eyes to dry. The phone was ringing at least.

"Morgan," his deep baritone voice said at last.

Emily breathed a sigh of relief. "Morgan!" she said, frantic. "I need a favor…"

XXXXX

"Why did Mom ask you to pick me, Uncle Derek?" Noah asked as he walked out of the elementary school with Derek.

After getting Emily's panicked phone call asking him to pick up Noah immediately, Derek went straight to the school. Emily gave no specific reason for why he needed to pick her son up other than Hotch was not answering his phone. All she said was to pick Noah up and take him back to the BAU.

"Not sure, bud," Derek said, putting a hand on Noah's shoulder to guide him towards his parked SUV. "But I'm taking you to your dad's office. We'll see what your mom is thinking when we get there."

Noah shrugged. "Oh, okay," he said. Grinning, he added, "At least I got to leave early from school!"

Derek laughed. "Yup."

As they started for the car, Derek caught sight of four men getting out of a van behind the SUV. His eyes narrowed, and he watched them carefully as they walked towards them down the empty street. They all dressed the same, and their expressions bored into Derek and Noah.

"Noah, get behind me," Derek said with a soft, almost inaudible voice.

Brows rising on his forehead, Noah looked towards the men. His eyes went wide. Silent, he did as Derek told him.

Before they could reach the SUV, the three men stopped in front of the car, blocking Derek and Noah's way. Instinctively, Derek reached for his gun, but he groaned internally when his hand didn't touch anything. His gun was in the SUV so he would not scare any kids or staff he came across in the school.

"Can I help you three with something?" he grunted, eyes flicking between all three of them.

"Give us the boy," the middle one said. He had an Irish accent and a smug expression.

Derek shook his head. He wished he had his gun with him. "No," he growled. "Get out of my way. I'm a federal agent. You're not doing anything to help yourselves by threatening me or the boy."

The Irishman, who was clearly the leader, looked to both of his companions. Nodding to Noah, he said, "Take the boy."

"Over my dead body," Derek said. Turning to Noah, he hissed, "Run!"

With fear glittering in his eyes, Noah did as he was told. Derek turned his attention back to the assailants and lunged for the Irishman. His fist met the man's face, connecting with his nose. The Irishman groaned, but punched him back so that he stumbled on his heels. Two pairs of hands grabbed Derek by the shoulders and yanked him upwards.

"You!" the Irishman hollered to one of his companions. "Get the boy!"

Derek fought against his captor's grip, lifting his leg to kick out against the leader. It did no good. He was rendered completely immobile by the two who had dragged him up.

"Hold him still," the leader said, digging into his coat and pulling out a gun. Derek's eyes went wide as the gun got pointed at him. He fought hard against the grip of the men holding him, but they had double as much strength as Derek did by himself. The Irishman approached Derek, cocking his head to the side to scrutinize him. "If you make it out of this alive, tell your friend, Emily, hello for me." He chuckled. "I doubt you will live, though."

Confused, Derek opened his mouth to demand to know who the Irishman was and how he knew Prentiss. Before any words left his lips though, the head of the gun shoved into the center of his abdomen. The sound of three shots being fired rang in the empty street, and a fiery flash of pain ripped through Derek.

The arms holding him in place released him, and he fell backwards onto the concrete of the sidewalk. His eyes fixed on the darkening gray sky above him, and he tried with all his might to stay awake.

It would not work, though. His eyes began to glaze over, and he coughed twice. He wanted to call for help, but the air in his lungs had abandoned him. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the group of men, a struggling Noah in tow, rushing back to their car and screeching off down the street.


	18. Messages - Reunited

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews guys! There's still a lot more angst to come, so just hold on to the fact it will be (hopefully anyway lol) worth it in the end. We've finally got a Hotch POV in this one, too. I hope you like it!**

**PS: My apologies for freaking anyone out with the injuries to our beloved Derek!**

"What do we know so far?" Aaron asked JJ as they sped down the road with their sirens blaring. His heart beat faster in his chest, and his thoughts spun in his skull with tsunami force. When JJ called him out of his afternoon meetings to tell him the news about his son and Morgan, all thoughts became focused on one thing, and one thing only.

JJ, pale as a sheet, shook her head. "Everything I know, I told you," she said. "They found Derek on the sidewalk outside Noah's school with three bullets in his abdomen, and Noah gone."

"Why the hell was Morgan picking Noah up?" Aaron demanded, his hands gripping the steering wheel in a death grip. He cut off a car in the lane he needed to switch into, earning himself a series of angry honks.

No amount of road-raging drivers could bother him, though.

"The police asked the front desk receptionist at the school what Morgan said when he came to get Noah, and she said that…" JJ's voice trailed off, as if she were choking on her own voice.

Aaron cursed as he came to a stoplight and was forced to slam on the brakes. Looking over at JJ, he glared. "What?" he growled. "What did the secretary say?"

JJ swallowed hard. "She said Emily called. Emily told Morgan to pick him up."

As soon as the light turned green, Aaron put his foot on the gas. Now Emily entered his head. He tried to remember the last time he saw her, but he simply could not remember the last time. It felt like eons ago right then. "Has anyone called Emily?" he asked. "No one saw her before we left?"

Again, JJ shook her head. "I've tried to call her three times already," she said. "No answer. I left her voicemails, but so far, nothing."

"Where the hell could she have disappeared to?" he thundered. They turned down the road to Noah's school. In the distance, he could see the flashing lights of police cars. As they screeched to a halt at the sidewalk, he turned to look directly at JJ and ordered, "Keep trying to reach her."

JJ nodded. "Of course," she said, pulling out her phone one more time while Aaron got out of the car.

Striding towards the officers, Aaron showed his badge to all of them. "I'm SSA Hotchner. I'm Noah's father and the man who got shot's boss." He looked around at the SUV Derek drove and the blood pool right outside it. His gut clenched. In addition to his son being gone, Morgan was laying on an operating table with a possibly fatal injury. "What do you have?"

"Not much," the head officer said. "I'm Detective Yolen, heading the case. We were called after people in the school heard three gunshots. The paramedics took your agent straight to the hospital."

"Did anyone see anything?" Aaron demanded, directing his attention back at the detective. "Anyone see license plate numbers, give descriptions, anything?"

The detective shook his head. "No, nothing," he said. "They managed to shoot your agent three times and get away with your son, _all _without being seen." He chewed his lip and shook his head. "School was still in session. With it being centered in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, it makes sense no one would see them while school was still going on." He huffed. "It's a miracle your man was found alive at all."

Aaron cursed under his breath. The unsub clearly put thought into this. But why? It was too calculated to be a stranger abduction, and —

"There's something else," Yolen interrupted. He waited for Hotch to look at him before adding on to what he said. "The assailants left a piece of paper on the agent. It was right on top of his chest."

Arching a brow, Aaron held out his shaking hand expectantly. The detective placed a small slip of yellow paper into his palm. Lifting it up, Aaron studied the drawing, and saw it was a four leaf clover. Beneath the clover, in crudely written handwriting was a name: _Lauren._

Rationally, Aaron knew this was a taunt. To leave a symbol on the body of a fallen federal agent meant something. He didn't know what this clover was, nor did he know who the 'Lauren' was, but he knew in his profiling gut this was connected to his son's disappearance and Morgan's shooting.

"Any ideas what this could mean?" Yolen asked.

Shaking his head, Aaron said, "No. I have no idea…which is why we're going to need the rest of my team and my technical analyst. I want to find all possible connections this clover could have to a woman named Lauren."

He had no idea how he managed to remain in control of his emotions — fear, rage, confusion — long enough to think this clearly. When JJ came toward the group, he became thankful. Maybe she had gotten ahold of Emily. When he saw the grim expression on her face, his heart shrank and started to beat at ten million and one miles an hour. He moved away from the group of chattering officers to speak with her.

"Any word from Emily _now_?" he demanded, leaning in closer to whisper to her.

JJ shook her head. Her face contained almost no color, and his heart shriveled even more. No answers once again.

"Nothing," she whispered. Putting a shaky hand on his shoulder, JJ gave it a comforting squeeze. "Hang in here, Hotch. You need to be strong for Noah and Morgan. They need that strength and you ability to profile the sons of bitches who did this to them. You hear me?" She remained silent, with a look of support on her face, which Aaron desperately needed.

Nodding shortly, he looked at his feet. He opened his mouth, but before he could get any words out, the head detective came to join them again.

"Sir," Yolen said. "Sir, has anyone been able to contact your wife, Noah's mother?"

Aaron shook his head. "She's my ex, and we haven't been able to get ahold of her," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. "But we're going to go back to Quantico, and we're going to —"

"Agent Hotchner, what if your ex-wife is the one who took Noah?" the detective suggested. "What if —"

Holding up a hand, Aaron halted Detective Yolen before he could ask the question. "No," he growled. "Emily and I don't have a poor relationship with one another to warrant her kidnapping him. And even more importantly, she wouldn't shoot Agent Morgan, a man who's been her friend for years."

He had not realized how abrupt and angry he sounded until he saw the look on JJ's face. Her eyes clearly told him he needed to take it down a few pegs.

Yolen nodded once, respectfully. "Oh, of course," he said. "I just wanted to make sure I asked. Standard procedure, as I'm sure you know."

Breathing deeply, he forced himself to, at the very least, appear calm. "As I was saying, we're going to assemble our team. I'm going to have someone go to the hospital, we're going to start profiling these bastards, and we're going to get my son back."

Aaron's hands clenched into fists as he thought about the men who had taken Noah and shot Derek. He needed answers, and he began to experience a feeling that Emily _did _know something. How she would know anything, he did not know. His suspicion had no reason behind it other than the way she had behaved in the past months. He needed her in front of him again, to question her, to demand if she knew who took their son.

_Where the hell are you, Emily? _he thought angrily, allowing JJ to guide him back to their SUV so they could drive to Quantico.

XXXXX

"What's going on? Where's Morgan? And Pren — Prentiss?" Penelope asked as she finally made it into the round table room. She clutched her tablet, notebook, and pen. Her eyes shone with glistening worry, and white knuckles clutched the items in her grasp.

Aaron noticed her stumbling over Emily's name. He arched a brow at her. She averted her eyes, but he couldn't dwell on whatever Penelope's nerves revolved around. He had sweat pooled at the back of his neck, and a churning gut. He needed to focus on Noah and Morgan.

The rest of the team waited expectantly for his answer, but Aaron could find no words. His mind was so focused on Noah, all other thoughts disappeared. Those thoughts took away his voice with them. So instead, he allowed JJ to take the helm for him.

"We've got a situation," she explained. "The police in DC called Hotch to let him know there was a shooting outside Noah's school."

Penelope's hand shot to Reid's arm, and she grasped it tightly. "Oh, God!" she gasped. "Is Noah okay?"

JJ swallowed hard. "No," she murmured. "Noah was taken."

"So are Morgan and Prentiss with the local PD then?" Rossi asked.

"That's the other thing," JJ said. "Emily called Derek to have him pick Noah up from school. And now she's disappeared. Morgan….Morgan was taken to the hospital."

All color drained from Penelope's face. "Is…what…what happened?"

"Three gunshot wounds to the abdomen, according to the officer who talked to the paramedics," Aaron jumped in, finally finding his voice.

Penelope strode toward the round table and slammed her things down on it. She turned to go.

"Garcia, where are you going?" Aaron asked.

Whirling around, Penelope looked at him with eyes that spat venom. "I'm going to the hospital!" she cried. "Someone needs to be there for him!"

Aaron shook his head. "No, Garcia," he snapped. "He will be in surgery for at _least _six to eight hours the doctors said. You can go when he's done, but right now we need you. _Noah _needs you. You can't help Morgan right now, but you _can_ help Noah." He paused before adding, "And Savannah has been called. She'll be there the entire time."

Tears streamed from Penelope's eyes, but she gave a reluctant nod. Sitting down at her tablet, she opened it up. With shaking fingers, she typed a few things in. "Let's do this."

"Alright," Aaron said, readying to spill the details he needed Garcia to piece together. "Here's what we have: a piece of paper —"

Bending her head, Penelope coughed to interrupt them him. She seemed to be holding something back. It was trying to release itself, but a stubbornness in her kept holding onto it. She broke out of it, though. "Hotch," she said. "Before you say anything, I…I have something that might be of help. It's about Emily."

Aaron arched a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. "What? What is it"

Nothing could have prepared him for what he heard from Penelope.

XXXXX

Emily arrived at the address Penelope had found for her. She parked on the curb and turned the engine off. For a moment, she remained where she was. She needed to soak in as much courage as she could. She and Declan had been separated for almost ten years. He would have no idea who she was. He probably called Louise 'Mom' now.

_What he will be like? _she asked herself. _What will he say when he's told I'm his mother?_

"You can do this, Prentiss," she said aloud. "You've wanted to find him. Now you can keep him safe with you like you always wanted."

Giving herself a mental kick in the shins, she stepped out of the car. She walked up the driveway to stand on the porch. A motion-sensing light turned on, causing her to jump. Goosebumps tickled her skin, and the hairs raised on the back of her neck. Raising a loose fist, she knocked softly on the door. The sound of footsteps broke out from inside the house.

_Here we go_, she thought.

The door opened to reveal a tween boy of twelve years. His blonde hair was curly, and his blue eyes gazed up at her with curiosity. Suddenly, those blue eyes went wide, and he stared at her in shock.

Tears filled her eyes. Words refused to leave her mouth as her throat tightened. Declan didn't say anything either.

"Declan? Declan, who is it?"

Emily's ears registered the voice of Louise, but she still didn't tear her eyes from Declan. The sound of more footsteps reached her ears, yet still they didn't draw her attention away.

"Declan, who is —" Louise started to say. She stopped abruptly behind Declan. Emily finally looked up at the nanny. Louise's eyes stared at her, unblinking.

"Hello, Louise," Emily croaked. She attempted to smile, but the tears burning behind her eyes made the expression forced.

Louise's face broke into a broad grin. "_Emily_? Is it really you?" she gasped, placing her hands on Declan's shoulders.

"It's really me," Emily breathed. She looked back down at Declan, tears starting to trickle down her face. She stuck out her hand, hoping to keep things as normal for him as possible. Things would never be completely normal for him after what she would tell him, but maybe they could start that way. "Declan, I'm —"

"You're my mom," Declan breathed.


	19. Nostalgia - Confession

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A HUGE apology to you all that this is so late. I've been struggling with my course load and job, so writing time is hard to come by. Thank you for your patience with me!**

**Also, thank you guys so much for the reviews! I'm glad you liked the last chapter. We're moving along with the Doyle storyline. Derek is still gonna be out of it for a little while, but we've got everything going on around him. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter :)**

Emily blinked at Declan in shock. "You…you know who I am?" she asked. There was no possible way he could know who she was. He was too young when they were separated to have memories clear enough to remember.

Declan nodded. Holding out his hand, he motioned for Emily to take it. She reached out and grasped his hand like he wanted. The young boy allowed her into the house, and she followed. She remained mesmerized as to how he knew who she was. When he led her to a room — the room she assumed was his bedroom — and released her hand, she understood why.

"Louise has kept this picture in every room I've ever had," Declan explained, handing over the photograph.

Emily held the picture in her shaking hands. The wood of the frame had wear-marks on it. Scratches lined the cheap wood, and she stroked the glass. Behind the worn glass was a photograph taken many years ago. Emily — then known as Lauren Reynolds — sat cross-legged in grass. On her lap sat a three-year old Declan, his wide grin shining up at the camera brighter than even the light of the sun shining on his curls. His mother's lips were pressed to his head, and her eyes glowed with happiness at the camera.

It was just the two of them, nothing invading their joyful moment.

"She's been telling me about you for years," he went on as she observed the picture. "That you got me out when some people came to our house in Europe." She looked up at him as he got quiet. Declan observed her carefully, and she put the photo down. She didn't realize it until now, but tears had started to stream down her face.

Declan blinked several times and raised his hand to her cheek to wipe her tears. "Why are you crying?" he asked.

Laughing, Emily grasped his hand that was on her cheek. "I'm just happy," she sniffled. "I promise. It's nothing bad. I…I just never though I would see you again."

"Did you look for me?" he asked, not moving. "Louise always told me you would be looking for me. I believed her. I always believed her." He gave a laugh. "I thought when I was older, maybe…maybe I could find _you_."

She leaned forward and rested her forehead against the side of his head. "I'm so, _so _sorry," she croaked. "I tried, but I wasn't good enough."

"How did you find me this time?" he asked, still not moving.

"I have a very good friend who helped me," she said. "She's an expert with computers. She managed to find you, just by me giving her your name and what you would look like."

Holding him close in her arms, Emily savored the feeling of being able to comfort her son. Only, this time, it was him comforting her.

"Louise always told me how much you loved me," he said, his voice soft as a whisper, but loud enough she could hear him with ease. "She made sure I always knew you were out there."

Blood running cold, Emily pulled back. She looked directly at him, hoping she was not about to hear what she feared most. "What else has Louise told you?" she asked. "About before, I mean."

He shook his head, furrowing his brow. "Nothing," he said. "I've asked, but she said it's not important. All that was important was you."

Emily breathed an internal sigh of relief. Declan knew nothing of his father. He was not haunted by the horrible shadow the deeds of Ian Doyle would cast on him. Yet anyway.

Stroking some of his hair back, Emily nodded. "I found you," she whispered. "And now, I need to take you somewhere. You're going to meet my friend who helped me find you. She's going to keep you safe."

"Safe from what?" Declan asked.

"Safe from a very bad man," she said.

He blinked several times. "What about you?" he asked. "Will you keep me safe?"

Emily nodded and hugged him again. She took a deep breath, counting the seconds between her inhales and exhales. "Me?" she whispered, two more tears rolling down her cheeks. "I won't just keep you safe…I'm going to _stop_ the bad man."

XXXXX

Penelope was on the verge of tears. She had spent the last seven hours juggling finding information about Ian Doyle, the wrath of Aaron Hotchner, and her raging emotions about Derek being shot. She was sleep-deprived, she felt sick, and she couldn't see anything but Derek when she blinked.

The look on Hotch's face when she revealed all she knew about Emily's whereabouts and mission made her more afraid than anything else ever had in her life. She told him everything he needed to know…everything except the detail that the boy Emily was searching for was in fact her son.

_That_ part she was going to let Emily tell him. It could only come from her.

"Sir," she croaked to Hotch, rubbing her temples as she stared at the four leaf clover that was the symbol of Ian Doyle. They were rounding the halfway point to their eighth hour, and they had heard no word from Emily and nothing from Savannah at the hospital. Even Sam, who she'd sent to look over Savannah, hadn't called her.

"I — I don't know how much more you want me to find," she murmured. "I've found everything about Prentiss from when she was overseas. I've tracked down a list of Doyle's known associates in the DC area who you all have had no luck with…I spent hours and risked a lot to get a lot of this information, and you're still —"

"Garcia, don't say another word!" Hotch thundered, his voice filling the round table room. The only other person in the room with them at the moment was Reid, and he looked up in shock. Penelope jumped when he spoke, but kept his gaze. "You knew she was doing something dangerous, and you didn't think to tell me any of it! You're the last person who gets to talk right now. You just shut up, and listen to what I tell you to do!"

Penelope stared at him, her tears still burning behind her eyes. "Sir, I'm _sorry_," she pleaded. "I only found out about all this with Ian Doyle today. All I was doing was helping her find Declan."

Hotch, who rarely, if ever, yelled at his team, shook his head. "Stop!" he yelled. "That's an order, Garcia. You're lucky you're the best at this job, or I would have you —"

Before Hotch could finish yelling at her, Penelope's phone rang. She looked down at it. Her heart leapt when she saw it was Sam. Without paying Hotch anymore mind, she answered hurriedly.

"How is he?" she gasped, on hand gripping her phone while the other gripped the round table. "Is he out of surgery yet?"

"Yeah," Sam breathed in reply. He yawned on the other end of the line. "He's out now. If you drive on over, you can come see him. He'll be out like a light for awhile, though." He paused. "Savannah's a mess, though, sweetie. She needs you more than Derek right now, I'd say."

Penelope's tears finally trickled down her face, and she sniffled. "Alright," she choked. "I'll be down now." She didn't bother to say goodbye as she hung up the phone. Rising to her feet, she grabbed her bag. She closed her laptop and shoved it in the tote.

"What is it?" Reid asked, looking at her hopefully.

Wiping her face, Penelope looked at between Reid and Hotch. "Derek is out of surgery," she mumbled, shouldering her purse. "I'm going there now." She watched as Hotch's mouth opened, but cut him off before he could say anything. "No! No, I'm not staying here anymore. Derek is _hurt_. I'm going to be with him. I found everything you needed to profile that bastard. If you need anything else, you can call me. I'll look it up on the laptop."

"Garcia, why don't you just —" Reid tried.

Penelope whirled to face Reid and the glaring Hotch. "Stop!" she cried. More tears filled her eyes. Her hand shot to her belly, something she found herself doing now that she knew about her pregnancy. "I'm not staying here. I'm going to see Derek." Focussing her attention on Hotch, she added, "You can't stop me, Hotch."

Without another look back, Penelope abandoned her station and ran out of the room.

XXXXX

"How is he? Anything different?" Penelope cried, dashing into the waiting room where she found Sam waiting for her. He rose from his seat and went to her taking her hands as she stopped in front of him.

Sam swallowed hard. "He's…" His voice trailed off.

Penelope's nails dug into the skin of Sam's hands. "What is it?" she croaked, breath quickening in her lungs. "What happened now?"

Leaning forward, Sam kissed her forehead. "No, no," he said. "He's in the room. He's sound asleep and will be for awhile. But…I just want you to be ready, okay sweetie? He looks pretty banged up. It looks like whoever did this to him got a hit on his face. And after he was shot he fell so he's all scraped up, too."

Penelope's lower lip trembled, and she released Sam's hands. She bent her head, forcing herself to take control of her breath once more. She needed to be calm. "Take me to him," she said.

Sam nodded and began to lead the way. As he led her through the quiet hospital corridor, Penelope wrung her hands together fretfully. The whole way there she reminded herself she needed to keep calm. Her job right now was to be Savannah's support. She wasn't Derek's wife. She had no right to be upset.

"Here it is," Sam said, stopping in front of room.

Even though she told herself the whole way there she would not appear overeager to see Derek, Penelope burst into the room with anxiety rushing through her limbs. Savannah sat beside the bed, her swollen and tear-filled eyes glued to him. She looked up at Penelope as she entered the room and rose to her feet. Rushing to her side, Savannah threw her arms around Penelope's neck.

As she hugged Savannah back, Penelope's eyes focussed on Derek as he lay lifeless on the bed. Her jaw dropped open on Savannah's shoulder. Just as Sam warned her, Derek's face bore several purple bruises. One of his eyes had swelled shut, and he had scrapes on the right side of his head.

He looked half dead.

Savannah pulled away and wiped her eyes. "Is there any news on who did this to him?" she pleaded, sniffling.

Penelope nodded, forcing herself to look at Savannah so she wouldn't break down into a heap of sobs on the floor. "Yeah," she managed. "We've figured out who it was."

"Who did it? Do you guys have him in custody yet?" Savannah cried.

Taking Savannah's hand, Penelope shook her head. "Let's not think about that right now," she said. "What's important is being here for him." She nodded to Derek on the bed. "Have you called Fran?"

Sam spoke up from behind the two women. "She got on a flight two hours ago," he said. "I called her while he was in surgery." He glanced at his watch. "Actually, I'm supposed to be picking her up soon. I need to get going."

Penelope nodded to him. "Alright, good," she said. She gave him a soft smile. "Drive safe, please."

"Always, sweetheart," he said, grabbing his coat from the chair he'd been occupying. He stopped next to Penelope and Savannah, kissing his fiancé and squeezing Savannah's shoulder. "I'll be back with Fran."

As soon as Sam was out of the room, Penelope urged Savannah to sit down once more. Savannah burst into tears once more, crying into her hands.

Penelope froze. She stared at Savannah for a moment, unsure of what to do. As she looked at her lover and best friend's wife, her heart started to crack in her chest. She should not feel this way. Derek was Savannah's husband, not hers. She had no right to feel this way about him.

She had no right over any of him.

"It's all going to be okay, Savannah," Penelope whispered, finally snapping out of her daze long enough to embrace her crying friend. "He's going to be okay. He's just gonna have to recover for a little bit. It'll be a rough recovery, but he'll be fine."

Savannah cried on her chest, her tears wetting Penelope's dress. "I can't lose him, Penelope," she wept. "I wish he would do something different so he doesn't. I can't have him —"

Penelope moved back and shook her head. "No," she said. "You won't lose him." She sighed and looked at the clock. The time was already crawling into the night. All was dark outside the hospital, save for the parking lot lights. "I want you to get some sleep. Please. For me."

"I can't sleep," Savannah said. "I couldn't possibly. I just need some coffee, and I'll —"

"No, no," Penelope insisted. "No caffeine. It will only make you more anxious. I'll get you some decaf if you really want it, but I think sleep would be better."

Savannah shook her head again. "I'll get it myself," she whispered, rising to her feet. Penelope rose with her, and she shook her head. "Please. Just let me walk around. I've been sitting for way too long."

Giving her a skeptical raise of the brow, Penelope sighed and relented. "Okay. Do you want me to come? Or do you want me to —"

"No, no," Savannah said, patting her shoulder. "Stay with Derek. I trust you with him."

_She shouldn't though, should she_? the snake who had been whispering in her brain for the past months said.

Swallowing hard, Penelope smiled. "I'm just a phone call away if you need me," she said as Savannah exited the room.

As soon as Savannah was gone, Penelope sank into her chair once more. Tears she had refused to shed in Savannah's presence suddenly came in full force, coursing down her cheeks. She stared at Derek on the bed. His eyes remained closed as his heart rate monitor beeped in the background.

She didn't know how long she sat there before she spoke. It felt like an eternity, but without warning, Emily's voice filled her head.

_You should tell him…_

Taking his hand, Penelope lifted the lifeless limb and kissed his knuckles. "Damn it, Derek," she growled. "Why did you have to make me feel this way? Why did you have to make me…" She choked on a sob, resting his hand against her cheek. "I fell in love with you. I didn't want to, I wanted to stay in love with Sam…but it happened."

She kept his hand at her cheek. "There's more," she wept. "This shouldn't have happened. None of this. We shouldn't have done this. And it's about to get so much worse for us." She pulled wiped her soaking cheeks. "You have to wake up, Derek. You _have _to. I know have no right to you, but…I'm pregnant. So I need you to wake up so you can —"

Before she could finish her sentence, the sound of something dropping to the floor came from behind her. The scent of coffee filled the room. Whirling around, Penelope's gut dropped when she saw Savannah in the doorway.

Savannah's wore an expression of complete and utter betrayal. The two coffee cups she brought back with her lay in a puddle on the floor. Her mouth fell open, and she looked as if she wanted to speak. No words came from her lips, though. Instead, she turned on her heel and stalked from the room, leaving the coffee where it was.

Leaping to her feet, Penelope chased after Savannah. "Savannah!" she cried, following her. "Savannah, wait!"

Halting in her tracks, Savannah turned to face Penelope. She glared at Penelope, ferocity blazing in her eyes. The fire from her expression shot straight through Penelope.

Penelope stopped directly in front of Savannah, but what happened next shocked her. Before she could say anything, Savannah raised her hand to slap Penelope across the face.

The sting of the slap remained on Penelope's skin, and she clutched her cheek in surprise. The sound of Savannah's palm hitting her face still echoed in the hall. "Savannah," she tried. "I —"

"Don't you dare say a word!" Savannah snapped. Tears swam in her eyes, but the fury still remained. "All this time, all these _months_, it was _you_! _You're_ the one he's been having the affair with!" She sputtered a few moments, searching for words. All that came was, "How could you do this to me? To Sam?"

Penelope struggled to find the words, but managed to croak syllables out.

"Savannah, please!" she begged. "I'm so, so sorry we did this to you! It…" Once again she grasped at words on the tip of her tongue. "…just happened."

Savannah laughed bitterly. "It…just…happened," she repeated in a mocking tone. "It just happened all those months that you two couldn't control yourselves. And you're _pregnant_? You couldn't bother to use a fucking condom?"

Shaking her head, Penelope bit her lip. "I never wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry for doing that," she whispered. Even with the guilt overwhelming her though, she knew she could not apologize for how she felt about Derek. She loved him too much to deny how she felt. "I can't say I'm sorry for loving him…I _won't._ I wasn't looking for it, but it happened."

With another piercing glare, Savannah shook her head. "You may have fallen in love with him, but I've got news for you. He. Married. _Me_. Derek said his vows to _me_, he said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with _me. _Baby or no baby, he would never leave me. He doesn't want children, and your little love confession isn't going to change anything."

Penelope stared at Savannah, knowing she was probably right. Derek didn't want kids. He probably would not want their baby. "Savannah…" she pleaded. "Please believe me. I'm sor —"

"Stop!" Savannah screeched, drawing the attention of the few people walking in the hallway. "I don't want to hear anything about how 'sorry' you are, or that you were sleeping with my husband because you fell in love with him!" She shook her head, decidedly sick of the confrontation they were having. "You know what, Penelope? You can go to hell!"

And without another word, Savannah sped away down the hall, leaving Penelope with a stinging cheek and heavy heart.

XXXXX

After an hour of explaining things to Louise and helping get things together for Declan, Emily finally got her son in a car to return him to Quantico.

The whole way back to Washington, Emily questioned Louise about what happened to her and Declan that caused her to lose her son. Her answer was the most simple, yet infuriatingly frustrating, answer: Louise had lost the name and address of their rendezvous point.

Something so small had kept Emily from her son for the past decade.

Had she not have been as thrilled as she was to have him back, she might have screeched bloody murder at her old friend.

As they drove within sight of the glittering lights of Washington, Emily glanced in her rearview mirror for what felt like the millionth time that night. In the back seat, Declan lay with his head resting against the door, his eyes shut as he slept soundly.

"Why did you tell him about me?" she asked Louise, turning her eyes back to the road. "You could've raised him as your son, but…" She paused. Raw emotions still coursed through her, and finding words that fit coherently together was still finding its way back to her. She coughed. "Why?"

Louise shrugged in the passenger seat beside her. "You're his mother," she said. "I always knew you would come find him. The things you did to get him out of Ian Doyle's clutches proved to me how much you would do to save him."

Warmth filled Emily's heart as she flipped on her turn signal to get off at the exit she needed. "Thank you for taking care of him all these years," she murmured. "Thank you for keeping him safe."

"Now that you've found him, I really don't know what I'll do," Louise laughed. "You've got a family."

Emily snorted. "Well, Aaron and I are divorced," she said. "It's not exactly a 'family' situation we're talking about here." She nodded once, though. "He has a brother. Noah. That's his name." Emily's eyes flicked upwards to the rearview mirror once more where she saw Declan still sleeping. She alternated her eyes back and forth between driving and her son, unconsciously losing track of where on her journey she was.

"Emily?"

Snapping out of her daze, Emily glanced at Louise once more. She forced a smile. "Yes?"

"Did you hear what I asked?" Louise said.

Emily shook her head. "No, I'm sorry," she murmured. "I was just…I….never mind. What were you asking?"

"I asked if you had any pictures of Noah," Louise repeated. "Any on your phone?"

Laughing, Emily nodded. "Oh, yeah," she mumbled. "Umm…the phone might be dead, though. I left so suddenly I didn't grab a charger, and made a few calls while I was on my way to you guys."

"Ah, don't you worry," Louise said, digging into her purse. "I _always _carry a car charger in my purse…just in case."

Louise picked up Emily's phone from the floor where it had dropped and plugged it in. It took the phone several minutes to charge up, and while they were waiting, Louise said, "You know? I bet Declan will love to have a baby brother. He's got a few friends, but he keeps to himself a lot."

Emily nibbled on her lower lip. "Really? Is it because they treat him poorly? Is he shy?" All at once the sense of not truly knowing her son crashed down upon her again. She wished there could have been an instant connection where everything about him automatically transferred to her mind so she could know him. That was just a fantasy, though.

She did not live in storybook worlds. She would need to go on the journey of learning about Declan the old-fashioned way.

"Oh, no no, he just prefers — oh, my!" Louise said, halting abruptly. "You've…" Her voice trailed off for a moment before she continued. "Oh, goodness!" Louise looked up at her with shock. "You have…a _lot _of messages."

Frowning, Emily took the phone from her and glanced at it as she made merged into the exit. There were over twenty missed calls from Aaron, and several from both JJ and Penelope. As they pulled up to a stoplight, she hit the first of Aaron's messages and listened to it play out.

When the message finished, Emily mouth dropped along with her phone. It clattered against the floor of the car, and she turned on the sirens in the SUV. She pressed her foot down on the gas.

Louise gasped. "Emily, what is it?"

Rage boiled within Emily, and she gripped the steering wheel even tighter. "We're going to the hospital." Her voice lowered to a growl. "Ian shot my friend and took my son," she hissed.

"Oh, God!" Louise cried. "Wh — what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get him back," Emily answered without hesitation. "…and then I'm going to kill Doyle."


	20. Taken

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you for your reviews, guys. This one has Emily and Doyle POVs, so I****'****m just going to jump right into it. Enjoy!**

Emily raced down the hall of St. Thomas' Hospital with Declan's hand clasped in hers. Louise followed behind them. She needed to find Derek's hospital room. That would be where Penelope was for sure.

As she gripped Declan's hand, she prayed and pleaded she could find Noah before Doyle could harm him in anyway. She needed to get Declan to Penelope, and she needed to call Clyde.

It was time for this fight with Doyle to be over.

She had no choice but to end his life. She did not care this would be considered vengeance by everyone else. For her, this was justice.

"Derek Morgan," she demanded at the nurses' station of the ICU. "He just got out of surgery. Gunshot wounds."

The nurse looked up at her, annoyed. "Ma'am, it is the middle of the night," she said snippily. "Visiting hours are not until the morning."

Pulling her badge from her coat pocket, Emily opened it and slammed it on the counter for the nurse to see. "I'm a damn FBI agent, and right now it's extremely important I get to my partner's room. There will likely be a blonde woman with him. That's our technical analyst."

The nurse's eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. However, she pulled up a chart book without another word and flipped through it. Arching a brow, she returned her attention to Emily and cocked her head to the side. "Room 314," she snapped.

Emily did not bother to say 'thank you.' Instead, she took Declan with her and hurried down the hall. When they reached the room, Penelope's back was to her. Knocking sharply on the door, Emily, Declan, and Louise entered. Penelope rose to her feet when they entered, turning around swiftly. Mascara trails painted her cheeks, and her eyes were swelled. Her eyes went wide when her gaze fell upon Declan.

"You're back," Penelope croaked.

Emily nodded.

"You finally got the messages," she went on. "You wouldn't be here if you hadn't."

Emily nodded once again. "I came as soon as I heard," she said. "But I'm not here for long. I came to bring Declan and Louise, and get information."

Fresh tears filled Penelope's eyes. "You found Declan," she murmured.

"Yes," Emily replied. She put her hands on Declan's shoulders and said, "Declan, this is my friend, Penelope. She's the one who helped me find you. I couldn't have done it without her."

Declan nodded to Penelope. "Hi," he said.

Penelope forced a smile. Her eyes still glistened with tears, telling Emily she was completely devastated by Derek's injury. She didn't have time to comfort Penelope, though. All she could think of was Noah.

"Garcia," she pressed. Penelope did not respond at first. She had returned her gaze to Derek, and the same hopelessness Emily had been seeing in her eyes for so long returned. With a steely voice, Emily repeated herself. "Garcia, I need your help."

Turning around to look at her once more, Penelope nodded and went to pick up her laptop from across the room. She returned to her chair at Derek's bedside. "What do you need?" she sniffled.

"Doyle would take Noah somewhere where he would feel safe," Emily said. "I need you to look up any known associates of Doyle and —"

Penelope interrupted her. "The others are already out looking for his associates," she said. "They're not having any luck."

Emily's hands clenched into frustrated fists. "They've all —" Before she could continue though, her phone rang. However, it was not her personal cell phone. It was her untraceable cellphone reserved for Clyde and Tsia. With shaking hands, she answered the call.

"Clyde?" she said.

"Emily," he said, swiftly. "Emily, listen to me!"

She shook her head and went into the hallway. "Clyde, I don't have time to listen," she hissed. "Doyle has my son. He took Noah."

"I know," he said. "That's why I'm calling. I know where he is."

Emily's mouth dropped in disbelief. "You _know_?" she croaked. "How long ago did you find out? Why didn't you call me right away?"

"Darling, I only just found out myself," he said. "Meet me at the bar you met Doyle for the first time. We'll go to where he has your son from there."

"Why can't I go straight there?" she demanded.

Clyde chuckled. "I know you, Emily," he said. "You'll run in guns blazing to save your son. You need _me_ to keep you alive."

With a racing heart, Emily rubbed her sweaty forehead. Her hands felt clammy, and chills started to run through her body. Rationally, she knew Clyde was in the right. But her maternal instinct felt stronger, more iron-willed than that rational part of her brain.

"I'll meet you at the bar," she relented. "It'll take me twenty minutes to get there from the hospital." Without waiting for Clyde to say anymore, Emily hung up the phone and shoved it into her jacket pocket. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself before reentering Derek's room. Louise was settled across the room on the couch with Declan at her side, while Penelope had returned to Derek's bed.

Emily crossed the room to her son and knelt down in front of him. "Declan," she murmured, her voice so quiet only he could hear her. "I've got to go somewhere. I'm going to go get your…" She really could not tell him she was going to rescue his brother. That would be too much of a revelation without Noah there. "I'm going somewhere for a few hours. I want you to stay with Penelope and Louise in here." She touched his cheek, leaning forward to kiss his forehead.

"Will you be okay?" he asked, hope shining in his eyes.

She nodded. "I will be," she said confidently. "And I'll come back to you as soon as I can." Tears burned behind her eyes, but they remained at bay this time. "I _promise_."

Declan nodded. "Okay," he murmured, leaning forward to hug her.

Holding him tightly, she kissed the side of his head before rising to her feet. Reluctant, she headed to Penelope and touched her shoulder. Her friend did not look up, but Emily spoke anyway.

"Please watch over them while I'm gone," she whispered.

Penelope finally looked up at Emily with bloodshot eyes. "What?" she gasped in shock. "You're not waiting for Hotch and everyone else?"

Emily shook her head. "No," she said. "They'll only try and stop me from doing this. I'm _protecting _them."

"No, you're being stupid!" Penelope cried, leaping to her feet. "You can't —"

Silencing her by holding up her hand, Emily grasped Penelope's arm. "I'm not doing anything alone," she said. "The last member of my Interpol team is still alive. He'll help me. You're the ones I care about. He'll be fine. No one can help." She made sure Penelope could see how serious she was about going on alone.

Leaning forward, Emily wrapped her arms around Penelope. "I'll be okay," she whispered. "Will you please watch over them?"

"Yes," Penelope replied tearfully, her voice sounding like sandpaper sheets scraping against one another.

Emily released her friend and nodded her thanks. Without another word, she turned to stride out the door to rescue Noah.

XXXXX

Ian Doyle strode down the hallway of the warehouse he and his team of mercenaries were set up. Hours had passed since he took Noah Hotchner, and he had yet to hear from Emily. His contact told him Emily's computer friend found Declan earlier that day.

_I would think she would come rushing to save her son, _he thought, irritated. He would have hoped to have Declan back by now. As soon as he had his son back, he planned to make Emily's life miserable. He would take Noah from her, he would take Aaron from her, he would take Penelope from her.

No one was safe from him.

He reached the boiler room guarded by two mercenaries. Doyle nodded to them. "I'm here to see the boy," he grunted. "Has he made any noise?"

"Not a peep," his hired-gun said.

Doyle opened the door. Huddled on the floor in the corner of the room sat Noah Hotchner. He looked up at Doyle. In the dim lights, he could see the bloodshot tint in the boy's eyes. A small rush of satisfaction raced through him. The boy who was Emily's, yet looked nothing like her, feared him.

_Good_, Doyle thought. _He should be afraid of me_.

Squatting down, he cocked his head to the side. "Why are you crying?" he asked the boy.

"Where are my parents?" Noah whimpered. "What did you do to Derek?"

Doyle shrugged, chuckling as he moved closer to Noah. "I shot Mr. Derek," he said, tilting Noah's chin up to look him in the eye. His fingertips grazed tears that wet Noah's chin. "I would bet he's dead right now."

Noah's face crumpled. "You ki — _killed _him?"

"Mmm," Doyle confirmed, though he did not know for certain if Derek Morgan was indeed dead. "As for your parents…well, I'll be killing your daddy. Your mommy will get to watch while I kill him." Noah started to cry harder, only fueling Doyle's speech. "And then, once I've killed your daddy, I'll kill you…leaving Mommy to pick up the pieces."

Dropping his hand, Doyle smiled at the traumatized boy before getting up and leaving the boiler room. Noah began screaming in terror as Doyle's hand touched the knob of the door. He shut the door behind him and nodded to his mercenaries again.

"Make sure his screaming stays to a minimum," Doyle growled, heading down the corridor he had come from to find out if Emily was on her way.

XXXXX

Emily pulled up in front of the bar she first met Doyle in. It was long after last call, and all in the street was quiet. She shut the car off. Her eyes shot around the darkness. The only figures visible were the street lamps as they stood tall and flickering in the night. She kept her eyes peeled for Clyde.

"Where are you?" she hissed, biting her thumb nail. As she spoke though, her friend emerged around the block next to the bar. Emily sighed with relief and stepped out of her car. As she shut the door, she pressed her hand against her hip where she felt her gun. The rest of weapons lay in the trunk of her car. She found it curious Clyde was on foot, though. They would need more guns than what she had.

She would have expected he would bring some with him.

"Clyde," she said in greeting when they met in front of the doors of the bar.

He nodded to her. "Doyle has a warehouse and a team of mercenaries he hired," he said. "Where are your weapons?"

Emily arched a brow. "Where are _yours_?"

"I've got mine," he answered, patting his side. "But I'll need some of yours."

Frowning, Emily studied Clyde. He looked as he normally did, nothing out of place. That did not stop a strange feeling from tickling up her spine. A ringing filled her ears, and she saw his mouth form words that did not register in her brain.

When Clyde arched a brow at her, she coughed. He knew she had not heard him. "What was that?" she asked.

"I asked where we can get your guns," he repeated, irritated. "Are you in the right head space to do this?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm fine," she snapped. Eyeing him carefully, she cocked her head in the direction of her car. "Come with me."

As she led him to her car, she prepared herself for how to confront him. Clyde knew something. He could have known this the whole time and she was just too blind to see it. Her muscles tensed as she strode to the back of her car once more. She made sure to be aware of every movement he made.

_How could I have been so stupid_? she thought to herself as they neared her trunk.

Emily stopped in front of her trunk and allowed her fingertips to graze the metal of her car trunk. "What are you waiting for?" Clyde asked when she didn't open the trunk.

Pulling her gun from her belt, Emily drew the weapon and pointed it at Clyde. She glared at him. "What did you do, Clyde?" she hissed. "Why did you join him?"

Arching a brow, Clyde shook his head. He chuckled. "I was really hoping this wouldn't have to happen," he commented, his posture relaxing. "I wish you had just come with me, and I wouldn't have to do this."

"Do what?" she demanded.

Before Clyde responded though, a fierce crack to the back of her head sent her spiraling into darkness.


	21. Breaking Up - Clyde's Revelation

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**I apologize for the delay in releasing this. I'm super busy with school right now. Sorry about the cliffhanger from the last chapter. Thank you so much for the reviews on it, and I hope you'll like this one, too!**

While Penelope sat at Derek's bedside, she continued checking the clock. Sam should have arrived with Fran by now. Not that she wanted Sam to return. As soon as she saw him, she would have to break their engagement.

Even if she had no future with Derek, she certainly had no future with Sam. Not with a baby on the way.

She breathed a shaky sigh, her fingers tracing the back of Derek's hand. Nothing felt right at that moment. Emily's decision to dash off after Noah had Penelope's stomach in knots. She wished desperately she would have been able to stop her, to force her to wait for help. The look in Emily's eyes, that glint of fierce determination, told Penelope that Hell itself would not have been able to keep Emily from her mission.

"Who is this?"

Looking up, Penelope found Declan standing next to her. Louise had fallen asleep in the corner of the room, and Declan still appeared to be wide awake. Penelope sat up straighter and cleared her throat. "Umm, his name is Derek," she croaked.

"Is he your husband?" Declan asked.

Swallowing past the iron lump in her throat, she shook her head. This question got asked a lot whenever she and Derek had gone out as friends, but somehow now it felt different.

"No," she replied. "He's…he's just a really good friend."

_He can't ever be anything else, _she added silently. Her heart began to ache in her chest.

Before Declan could say anything more, footsteps sounded from the doorway. Penelope turned and found Sam and Fran standing in the door. She rose to her feet, her eyes meeting Fran's. Derek's mother rushed to her and threw her arms around her. Penelope hugged her back just as tight.

"How is he?" Fran asked, going to sit on the edge of her son's bed.

"He's still gonna be out for a while," Penelope replied, trying to keep her gaze trained away from Sam at all costs. "But the surgery went well."

Fran looked back at her. "Where's Savannah?" she asked, looking around. "And who are these two?"

Placing her hands on Declan's shoulders, Penelope said, "This is Declan and his guardian, Louise. And, uh…Savannah…" Finally, her eyes strayed to Sam, almost cracking her composure. Unable to answer Fran, Penelope looked at Sam and motioned for him to follow her out of the room. Confused, he followed her and shrugged when she stopped them in the hall.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked.

She shook her head with vigor. "No," she whispered. "Don't call me that. You won't want to after what I'm about to tell you."

His brows rose. "Umm, I'm not sure I understand," he said. "What is it?"

Wringing her hands together, Penelope looked him in the eye. She owed him that much. "Sam, I…" She sighed with a shaky breath and slid her engagement ring off her finger. Holding her hand out, she opened her hand to reveal the ring. Her voice grew quiet. "I can't marry you."

Sam stared at her hand in shock. "I — I —" he stammered. "I don't understand. What happened?"

No tears came this time. She had cried everything out. Guilt still coursed through her, but she managed to maintain her composure. "While you were gone in Europe, I…" No. These were not the words she wanted. This had started before he went to Europe. She started over. "I've been feeling this way for a long time, and I've never been able to find a way to say this before. I'm not in love with you. I don't know if I ever have been."

He blinked at her.

"I fell in love with someone else," she went on. Her mouth went dry, and her tongue felt so sandpapery she couldn't find any more words.

Sam ran one hand through his hair and took the ring in his other. Sputtering, he stared at the ring before looking back up at her. "You fell in love with someone else," he repeated. "Did —" He swallowed hard. "Did you cheat on me?"

"You know I wouldn't be telling you this if I hadn't," she murmured.

He closed his hand around the ring. His fist squeezed around it. "What's his name?" he growled.

She shook her head. "Does it mat—"

"Garcia!"

Penelope's head whirled in the direction of the voice. Hotch and Rossi came striding down the hall toward her and Sam. The looks on their faces told her they had not had luck with Ian Doyle's Washington DC associates. Penelope hoped they would have found something to lead them to Emily.

Evidently not.

Her thoughts jumped from everything — Derek, Sam, Savannah — and darted to Emily. She went off on her own to target Doyle with only one person as her backup. Penelope had no idea where she was, but she was damned if she was not telling Hotch now. Emily had no way to stop her now.

"How is Morgan?" Rossi asked, stopping in front of Penelope and Sam.

Penelope bit her lip. "He's okay," she murmured. "Sam picked up Fran from the airport." She glanced at Sam and saw the heartbreak in his eyes. His eyes rested on the ring in his hand. She could not focus on Sam right then though. Looking away, she met Hotch's eyes. "We need to talk."

Hotch's face grew darker than it already was. "What is it?" he demanded. "Something about Doyle's associates?"

She shook her head. "No…it's about Emily."

His face paled. "She's back?"

Penelope opened her mouth to speak, but Hotch had already started striding toward Derek's room. She dashed off after him. "Sir! Sir, wait!" Hotch didn't slow down, and she huffed as she was forced to run after him in her high pink heels. "Hotch, she's not —"

But Hotch entered the room before she could finish. A wave of nausea crashed over her. This could very well send him into a shock he might not recover from. With Rossi close behind her, Penelope got to the door and found Hotch standing before Declan. Fran looked utterly bewildered at the scene that had come storming into her son's hospital room.

"What's going on?" Fran asked, standing straight up. Across the room, Louise sat up with a start, fully awake.

Penelope ignored them both and went to stand by Declan's side. She put a hand on his shoulder. Studying Hotch's face, she waited for some reaction, any sign of emotion. He stared at Declan though, unmoving.

"This is Declan?" he asked finally, his eyes finding Penelope's. "The boy Emily went to find?"

Just when Penelope thought things could not get any worse, Declan spoke up. "You know my mom?" he asked.

Hotch's usual composure broke. His mouth dropped, and his eyes grew wider than Penelope had ever seen them. Instantly, his gaze shot back to Declan. "Your…" His voice trailed off as he lost the power of speech. After several minutes of choking on his voice, he managed to ask, "Where is Emily?"

Penelope gulped. "She went after Ian Doyle," she said.

"_Alone?" _Rossi asked in disbelief.

Nodding, Penelope pointed to the door. "I'll tell you about it out there," she ordered. No one seemed to mind, seeing as both of them were so shocked. Giving Declan's shoulder a squeeze, she pointed to the door. "I'll be right back." Declan nodded to her, and she hurried out into the hall to talk to Hotch and Rossi.

"Why didn't you stop her?" Hotch growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "And why didn't you tell me that boy is Emily's _son_?"

Penelope glared at him. "That second part is Emily's place to tell you," she said. "And I tried to stop her, but…" Her voice trailed off. In her grief over Derek, she didn't even think to call Hotch.

"Why didn't you call me immediately?" Hotch demanded.

Shaking her head while she silently cursed herself, Penelope rubbed her forehead. She bit her lip and looked up at her boss. "I — I forgot," she mumbled. When she saw the look of pure rage on Hotch's face, she added hurriedly, "I know that's no excuse. I _know_. With Derek like this, I just…" She shook her head. "I'm so sorry."

Hotch visibly shook with rage, but took a deep, cleansing breath to stay calm. "We need to find her," he growled. "Did she say _anything _that would give us a hint of where she went?"

Penelope wracked her brain. Almost immediately, Emily's voice broke through in her head. Snapping her fingers, she straightened as rigid as an oak tree.

"Her last Interpol partner is alive!" she cried with a voice shaking as much as her hands. "He's helping her. It's all I have. But I can use it I think. Maybe I can find somewhere he's been staying close by, or —"

"Just do it!" he hissed. "Find them."

She nodded once, not interested in Hotch's scathing looks anymore. She _would _find Emily. At this point, she was the only one who might be able to.

XXXXX

Emily awoke with a fierce pounding in her head. Her eyes began to flutter open. Blurred images filtered into her vision, and she blinked several times to try and clear it. She tried moving her arms to rub her forehead, but found she was tied up. All her limbs were completely immobile. When she wriggled her hands, her wrists tingled with the scratchy feeling of rope.

Then she remembered _how _this happened.

"_Clyde_," she hissed, rage flaring up her spine. When she got her hands on him, she would rip him limb from limb.

"And the diabla awakens."

Her head snapped in the direction the voice came from. She instantly knew the owner of that voice. Ian Doyle sauntered toward her as she sat tied to the chair.

She glared at him. "Where's my son?" she snarled, ignoring his comment.

"He's around," Doyle said, not tearing his eyes from her. "He's scared to death, your little boy. He's been screaming quite a bit since he got here." He blinked with false innocence. "If we're really quiet for a moment you'll be able to hear him." He craned his neck toward a door on the other side of the room.

Sure enough, a faint scream could be heard.

The sound made Emily shake against her bonds. Panic filled her heart. Directing her attention back to Doyle, she shook her head. One tear fell from each eye, and she knew at this point her only slim chance of saving her son meant she needed to beg. If she were not tied to a chair, she would have fallen to her knees before Doyle to plead that he spare him.

"Ian, please!" she murmured. "Please, just let my son go. He's just a little boy."

"We've been over this," he replied. "You're going to suffer. What will destroy you is me killing him. You have to live with the knowledge that your son's life ended because of your actions."

Emily saw the sincerity in Doyle's eyes, and a shiver shot up her spine. She refused to cry in front of him, but the fear of losing Noah started to eat away at her. Tears prickled at the back of her eyes.

"When I get out of these ropes, I'm going to kill you," she hissed. "And if I don't, Aaron will kill you."

Doyle laughed and shook his head. "You will never see that," he replied. Going around behind her, he leaned down to her ear. His breath burned her skin. "Your son will die, your lover will die, your friend will die. Their only sin? Being your loved ones."

"You've sunk to a new low," she growled. "Killing innocent people because they know me."

He touched her hair, running his fingers through the ends of it. His touch radiated malice. She could not suppress the shiver that ran through her. He merely laughed before placing his hands on her shoulders. Squeezing so hard her neck began to ache, he moved to her other ear.

"Revenge does that to a person," he said, moving to stand in front of her. "You're intelligent; you should know to never underestimate such a strong emotion."

Emily stared at him without a word before spitting in his face. Doyle's eyes closed as the spittle hit his cheek. Using his jacket sleeve, he wiped his cheek and chuckled. He turned his back to her, but before she could see anything coming, he shot around and backhanded her across the face.

Stars and rainbows filled her vision. She swore her brain was rattling around within the confines of her skull. Blinking several times, she willed her vision to return to her so she could see once more.

"Screw you," she growled.

"Tell me where Declan is," Doyle hissed before hitting her again. This time his fist struck her nose. Warm blood gushed from her nostrils, and she knew he had broken her nose.

She looked up at him, wishing she could wipe the blood from her face. "I'm not telling you where he is," she hissed. "I won't let you destroy his life."

Doyle struck her across the face a third time. "If you tell me, I'll make sure I kill the lovely Miss Penelope quickly," he growled. "I promise."

"You'll never get your hands on her," Emily hissed, trying to regain her vision.

"And who will stop me?" Doyle said, grabbing her chin. "You? Aaron? Her lover?" He laughed wickedly. "No, you've seen what I can do. You know that no one will keep her or your family safe. You know it, you just don't want to accept it."

Before Emily could respond through sore lips, the sound of a door opening on the other side of the warehouse room interrupted her. She caught sight of Clyde and immediately her blood boiled. She wanted to send him to the very last circle of hell for betraying her. But then she saw he was not alone as he crossed the room. As he strode forward, he pushed a much shorter figure along in front of him.

It was Noah.

"_Mom_!" he cried as Clyde dragged him through the room. Tears streaked down his cheeks as he fought against Clyde's grip.

Despite its uselessness, Emily fought against her bonds. She wanted to go to her son, to comfort him. Biting her lip, she forced herself not to cry so she could show Noah some form of strength. She did not know how much help she would be with her face all bloodied up.

"Noah!" she gasped. "Noah, just –"

She could not get the rest of the words out before Doyle hit her across the back of her skull. Her head lolled forward, aching even more with each hit. She needed to speak, to find her way out of the ropes binding her. With the amount of injury her head was taking, she hoped she would be able to see straight.

"Careful now, Doyle," Clyde said. "We're supposed to be keeping her alive. It's the boy we're killing right now."

Turning her attention to Clyde, Emily narrowed her eyes at him. "Why did you turn, Clyde?" she asked, spitting blood onto her shirt. "You helped put him away, he killed our friends! Why are you doing this?"

Clyde snorted. "Darling, you should know by now that I am a complicated man," he said. "There are many things about me that will not make sense to you. You should also know by now though, that I'm not a man you want to cross."

"How did I _cross_ you?" she spat. "What have I ever done to you that would make you help Doyle?"

"You _and_ Sean," Clyde answered. "I've gotten my revenge on him, though. He and his family are dead. But why I'm doing this, I haven't answered yet. I'm doing this, my dear, because you made a fool of me all those years ago when we first tried to handle this case. You hid a pregnancy from me, you dragged the investigation out for three damn years."

Emily gaped at him. "You're doing this because of a case that took too long and the fact Sean and I didn't tell you a small detail?" she screeched. Fury blazed through her, and she fought against the hold of the ropes again.

"My life didn't remain the same after that," he snapped. "Do you really think Interpol would allow me to keep my position after that debacle?" He shook his head. "My career could never go anywhere after that. So when Doyle offered me money for information on all of you, I gave it."

Shaking her head, Emily hissed, "And you would kill my son because of something stupid like your damn pride?"

Clyde shrugged. "Revenge acts in the most vicious of ways," he replied simply.

"You'll find that mothers protecting their sons do, too," Emily spat back.

Doyle yanked Noah from Clyde's grip and held him by the hair. Noah whimpered In fright, trying to escape Doyle's grasp. "_Please _let me go!" he begged.

Leaning down to Noah's height, Doyle hissed in his ear, "Do you understand what is about to happen to you, boy?" Noah did not respond, too shocked with fear. To get an answer, Doyle shook the little boy. "Do you hear me, boy?"

"Y-yes!" Noah wept.

Doyle gave Noah's head another yank. "You're about to die because of your mommy's mistakes, that's what's about to happen to you."

Emily fought even harder against the chair, yielding the same results as the previous times she had tried to escape.

"Get your hands off him!" she snarled. "I'll kill you, I swear I will!"

"Not with your hands tied behind your back you won't," Clyde commented in a low voice.

As she opened her mouth to scream at Doyle, the sound of a thunderous crash followed by gunshots came from behind the giant double doors. Doyle and Clyde's attention shot to the doors as more gunshots fired off.

_Aaron_? she thought.

"Take the boy out the back," Clyde said to Doyle. The sounds of footsteps grew louder. He pointed to the back door. "Get him out now."

Shoving the gun further into Noah's temple, Doyle gritted his teeth. "Not until I know where Declan is!" he hissed.

"We need to leave now, otherwise you won't get your revenge _nor _will you find your son," Clyde shot back. "If you have the boy, you've got the upper hand still. Now, _go_!"

Doyle shook his head angrily, but nodded in agreement. Emily struggled against her chair as he started to take off across the room with her son in tow. Noah could do nothing but sob.

"Let him go!" she cried, tears melding together with the blood dripping from her nose. "_Noah_!"

But no matter how hard she fought, she could not get free. Doyle had taken her son out the door, and she could not longer see him. Frustration poured down her face in salty tears as she shook in her chair.

Clyde came over to her side and patted her shoulder. "Don't struggle so hard, darling," he said, condescendingly. "You'll see him again. Our mutual friend, Doyle will want you to see what he does to him."

"You're lucky I'm tied up right now, Clyde, because I would snap your neck if I wasn't!" she shouted.

He laughed as he slipped a new clip into his gun. "I'll see you later, Emily," he said before walking toward the emergency exit.


	22. Rescue Mission

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you guys so much for your kind reviews! I know I'm really not keeping up with a steady schedule on posting, so thank you for your patience. Now, some of you have expressed some concern about Penelope getting yelled at a lot by Hotch, but there's a reason why I wrote it that way, so don't worry; it definitely gets resolved! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Aaron raised his gun as he opened the door to the warehouse Garcia had led them to. After he demanded that she find anything to lead them to Emily, Garcia proceeded to search under all of Clyde Easter's known aliases for any sign of him in the DC area.

When she came across a hit, it shocked them all to find a warehouse near the hospital leased to one of the aliases.

After Garcia dug into Easter personal and work lives, she found that not only had he been dropped from Interpol after the Ian Doyle case, but also he had recently had over a million euros put into an offshore bank account. After getting the information, they gathered a SWAT team and made their way to the warehouse Easter was leasing.

Aaron felt the blood roaring in his ears. He looked from side to side at Rossi and the SWAT agent who followed directly behind him. Nodding wordlessly to both of them, he continued forward on swift feet. They all moved in sync, silencers on their guns so they could fire on an enemy without detection.

All he could think of was Emily and Noah. They were somewhere in the warehouse, all he had to do was find them.

Twenty yards ahead of them was another door. Aaron surged ahead, ignoring Rossi's hiss to slow down. Pure adrenaline raced through his veins, unlike anything he had ever felt before.

Before he made it to the door though, a tall figure appeared at the end of the hall. Without warning, the figure raised a gun and fired. The bullet whizzed by Aaron's face and lodged itself in the plaster of the wall.

_ A mercenary with bad aim_, Aaron thought with a twinge of relief. _This will give me more energy to focus on Doyle._

Both Aaron and Rossi raised their own guns and fired back. Neither of their shots landed, but a SWAT agent from behind them managed to strike the mercenary in the sternum. The sounds of the SWAT agents' gun were muted, but the mercenary's had no way of silencing the deafening ring.

"Shit," Aaron grumbled as they went forward. "There went our stealth."

Kicking open the door, he stormed through and aimed down one hall while Rossi did the other. He paused for a moment, not seeing anything. Suddenly, a mournful cry rang through the hall faintly. His heart leapt into his throat. Forgetting protocol for once in his life, he dashed down the hall. He knew it was Emily, and he could not help but run to her.

Where Emily was, he would find a trail to his son.

Forgetting the rules he lived by had its consequences, though. When he reached the end of the next hall, the sound of another mercenary's gun went off. Following the sound, a burning flash of pain shot through his bicep as a bullet grazed it. He groaned, falling back against the wall. The mercenary's gloved fist connected with his jaw. His gun flew from his hand and to retaliate, Aaron charged his attacker and shoved him into the wall.

Aaron raised his fist and punched the mercenary twice, once in the left eye and once in the nose. The hit to the nose caused the sound of splintering bone to echo in the hall. As he raised his hand to hit again, he noticed the hired gun's eyes glazed over. His head lolled to the side. Leaping to his feet, Aaron retrieved his gun and staggered onward. He ignored Rossi's voice calling his name.

Finally he reached the end of the final hall. Next to the door, he found he had come to the main storeroom. His heart raced in his ribcage. On the other side of the door he could hear Emily's anguished cries. Without hesitation, he ripped the door open, nearly pulling it off its hinges.

When he opened the door, he caught sight of Emily. She sat strapped to a chair, her face stained with tears as she shook against the ties binding her to the furniture.

"Emily!" he called, running to her side. He stopped in front of her and gently touched her chin to observe the extent of her injuries. He swallowed hard at the swelling and moved her hair from her face. Digging into his vest, he produced his pocketknife.

Suddenly, Emily shook her head. "No!" she cried. "No, Aaron. Doyle took Noah! He took him out that way." She nodded to the door on the other end of the warehouse. "Go!"

Meeting her eyes one last time, Aaron nodded and dashed off in the direction of the door Emily directed him. He ignored Rossi's yell from behind him and stormed through the door. Lights flickered above him, casting a dim light over the hall. Slowing his breathing as best he could, Aaron crept forward, listening for the sounds of Doyle or his son.

Sure enough, when he listened closely, he could hear the faint cries of Noah begging to be released. Without another thought, Aaron sped up. His feet flew across the concrete. He hoped to high heaven his son's kicking and struggling would be slowing Doyle down in some way so he could catch up to them.

The sound of Noah's voice began to get louder. Whether Aaron was gaining on them because he was sprinting at world record or Doyle was going too slowly, it was unclear. All he knew was he was gaining.

_Hang on, Noah, _he thought, desperately.

At the end of the hallway lay a door with a plaque nailed into it that read "Shipping and Receiving." There was no other route Doyle could have taken. With his gun in one hand, Aaron reached forward and pulled the door open. It creaked open, the old hinges grinding as the rusty metal twisted.

Almost immediately after he opened the door, Aaron saw Doyle fifty yards ahead of him. Noah struggled in Doyle's grasp, his small legs kicking out as he tried to escape.

"Put your hands up!" Aaron hollered.

Doyle stopped abruptly in his tracks at the sound of Aaron's voice. He stood stone still for another moment before turning around to look at him with his malicious eyes.

As Doyle turned around, Noah managed to catch sight of his father and his eyes went wide.

_"Dad!" _he shrieked. "Dad, help!"

"Let him go, Doyle," Aaron growled. "It's over. You're done."

Using a gun he had in his free hand, Doyle pressed it into Noah's temple. "Does it look like I'm finished yet?" he growled in question.

"If you don't let him go, you won't walk out of this building alive," Aaron hissed. "Let my son go."

"I'll tell you what I've told Emily," Doyle said. "She needs to suffer, and your deaths will cause that. She needs to see what happens."

"Emily isn't here," Aaron snapped back. "If you kill us now, you'll never see her suffer. You won't get what you want."

Fury flashed across Doyle's face. "I still have your son," he growled, tightening his forearm's grip around Noah's neck. "I have part of what I want. You think I wouldn't kill him, even now?"

"Because you're after revenge," Aaron said through gritted teeth. He knew Doyle would not harm his son, not without Emily in front of them. "The only reason you're after me and Noah is because you want to hurt Emily in the worst possible way. You can't complete what you want to do with her tied to a chair."

Doyle's steely gray eyes stared directly into Aaron's. He kept his mouth shut, grinding his teeth together in anger. Aaron could see the decision-making happening in the terrorist's eyes. Doyle knew he had a mere amount of seconds left before he had no possibilities for escape. Taking one look at Noah and another look at the row of empty metal shelving units, Doyle let out a fierce bellow of anger. Without another word, he shoved Noah into the shelving units, so hard the boy's head hit the concrete.

Without hesitation, Aaron fired at Doyle. Noah's small body on the ground sent terror running up his spine, and his finger could not escape the urge to pull the trigger. His bullet hit Doyle in the shoulder, but that did not stop him from running toward the doors.

Lowering his gun, Aaron spoke into the mic on his wrist. "Rossi, get SWAT to go to the east side of the building," he growled. "Doyle is running out the receiving lot."

"Can you follow him?" Rossi demanded.

Aaron rushed toward his son and knelt beside him. "No," he snapped back. "Noah hit his head. Get SWAT to the other side of the building, and an EMT crew to shipping and receiving."

"Copy that!" Rossi said, his voice crackling in Aaron's earpiece.

Pulling Noah into his arms, Aaron felt for his son's pulse. "Noah?" he murmured. "Noah, buddy? It's Dad. Can you hear me?"

Noah's eyes began fluttering at the sound of his father's voice. He stared up at Aaron with glazed over eyes. A small smile covered the little boy's face. "I knew you would find me," he murmured.

"I've got you, buddy," Aaron said, holding him close. As he held him, he became vaguely aware of the sting from the graze on his arm as blood trickled down his bicep.

"Did you find Mom?" Noah coughed.

Aaron nodded. "I did," he said. "Uncle Dave is untying her right now. I'm gonna get you both home. Right now, you just stay awake, okay? You hear me?"

Noah merely nodded as his eyes closed, his smile staying on his face as he drifted in and out in his father's arms.

XXXXX

"Here you go," Penelope murmured, taking the orange juice bottle from the soda machine before handing it to Declan. She smiled as he unscrewed the lid and took a greedy sip. "Thirsty, huh?"

Declan nodded. "Yeah," he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"Are you feeling tired at all?" she asked as they started back down the hallway. The poor kid had been up for the entire night. She couldn't imagine how he was still lucid, much less walking around.

He shrugged. "I haven't felt tired," he murmured. "Too much to think about."

_Well he _did_ just meet his mother for the first time_, she thought as they made their way back through the lobby to the elevators.

It was nearing the early hours of the morning and Derek still had not woken up. Penelope's focus had shifted entirely to Declan. She would be lying to herself if she said she was not pleased to have a distraction from her own personal life problems. Getting to know Declan was better than any option she could have come up with. He may not have known Emily for most of his life, but he certainly had personality traits reminiscent of her.

He even bit his nails the way she did when nervous.

"Miss Penelope, can I ask you something?" he asked.

Penelope nodded. "Sure thing, kiddo," she answered. "And you can call me Penelope."

Declan wasted no time in jumping in. "Why do you keep rubbing your stomach?" he asked. "You've been doing it the whole time, and I thought it might be because you're sick, but you don't really look sick. So what is it?"

"I…" She shook her head, cursing Emily for passing on her observation skills to her son. _Now _she felt sick, of course. Her options for what to do about her pregnancy remained lodged in the back of her mind. She wanted to avoid thinking about it for as long as she could, but clearly fate had other things in mind for her. Why else would Declan bring something up? "It's just something I do…when I'm nervous."

_The universe is out to get me_, she thought with a heavy sigh.

"Oh," Declan said with a slight shrug. "You're nervous about your friend not waking up yet?"

Blinking rapidly, Penelope swallowed hard past the burning lump in her throat. "Yeah," she croaked.

"Maybe he'll be awake when we get upstairs," Declan suggested as they stopped in front of the elevator.

Penelope pressed the button to go up and kept her mouth clamped shut. She wanted Derek to open his eyes so bad – she wanted to see them when they opened – but she knew she couldn't be there for it.

She was the dirty mistress, not the wife.

"Well, when we get up there we can –"

Before she could finish though, a strangled voice shouted out from down the hall near the doors to the ER.

"_Declan_?"

Turning abruptly, Penelope gasped as her eyes met with those of a hunched over Ian Doyle.

**Curious as to how Doyle got there and what's going to happen from here? You'll find out in the next one ;)**


	23. Reign of Terror Ended - Starting Over

D**isclaimer: I own nothing.**

**My sincerest apologies for the extra long delay on this. I had some issues with my computer not turning on so I had to take it in and it needed new parts and all sorts of crap. But now it's fixed, and I was able to finish the chapter! My thanks for your patience!**

**So we've obviously gotta see how Doyle got to the hospital! It might seem like he got there SUPER fast, but we actually jumped forward in time between Hotch and Penelope's POVs in the last chapter. This one will be in between them. Thank you so much for the reviews, and I hope you'll like this one :)**

"Hang on, Emily," JJ said, holstering her gun as she knelt behind the chair Emily sat tied to.

With a croak in her voice, Emily twisted her wrists in the ropes binding them. Her skin burned as the rope scratched at her flesh. "Get them off," she hissed. Rossi offered a pocketknife to JJ that she used to slice through Emily's bonds. She shook the ropes off and jumped to her feet. "Someone give me a weapon." Gazing between her companions, she stuck out her hand. "Did none of you hear me?"

Rossi shook his head. "No," he said, firmly. "Emily, you're in no condition to go after Doyle. Let the SWAT team and Aaron do their jobs."

"That's my son he's got, Rossi!" she spat. "You really think I'm going to let you keep me from saving him?" When she tried to go toward the door Aaron had gone through, Reid grabbed her from behind and held her arms back. She struggled against him and his shockingly strong grasp. "Let me go, Reid!"

Going to stand in front of her, Rossi grasped her by the elbows and looked straight into her eyes. "Emily, you've already saved him. Noah and Declan. Now let us help you."

The mention of Declan made Emily pause. She blinkedthrough her rage. "How do you –"

"We were at the hospital," Rossi told her. "Garcia helped us find you. But Emily, listen. You need to calm down. Aaron is going to get Noah back, and we'll get you to the hospital where you can be with both your boys."

Emily could not stop the shaking in her limbs. Adrenaline rushed through every artery in her body, fueling the rage she felt toward Clyde and Doyle. She knew she was ready to explode, and if Reid had not been holding her arms, she might have gone off like a nuclear explosion.

"Emily, you need to sit down," Reid urged. "You're – "

"Don't tell me to sit down!" she hissed. "Don't! I couldn't possibly right now."

As she tried to get out of Reid's grasp once more, SWAT agents came swarming into the room. Her gaze shot to Rossi, and she tried with all her might to stop flinching. It didn't work well, but logic and the power of thought abandoned her at that moment. "Rossi," she tried, forcing her breath to slow. "Can you contact Aaron on his com? Please! I have to know if he's found Noah."

Rossi sighed and nodded. It was clear he did not think they would get ahold of Aaron. If she had not been so frightened for her son's life she would have thought the same thing. "Let me try," he said. As he spoke into his wrist and listened for an answer, Emily felt the burning urge to chew on her nails in nervousness. With her arms held behind her back though, she was unable to get at her nails.

"Relax, Emily," Reid pleaded. "Hotch will get him back."

Emily knew Reid was right. She tried with all her might to slow her thinking, but nothing seemed to work. "You can let me go now, Reid," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."

After a moment of thinking, Reid released her. She turned to face him. "Have they found anyone other than mercenaries around?" she asked, rubbing her sore lip. Her hand came away streaked with a small line of blood.

"I'm not sure," Reid said. "Why?"

"Clyde was here," she hissed. "He –"

Reid nodded. "Betrayed you," he interrupted. "We know. Garcia found you because Clyde had rented this warehouse under one of his aliases."

Emily groaned. "That doesn't matter!" she grumbled. "Did they find him?"

"No, no one has found him," Reid answered. "They're going to do a sweep of the whole building, though. If he's here, they'll find him."

Somehow I don't know if that will be enough, she thought.

After what felt like an eternity, Rossi perked up. After a moment, he puled his wrist up to his mouth and demanded, "Can you follow him?"

At the sound of his voice, Emily jerked away from Reid. She went to stand at his side, grasping his arm with iron fingers. Her heart sped in her chest.

Rossi nodded. "Copy that," he said before dropping his wrist. Looking straight at Emily, he placed his hand over hers. "He found Noah. They're in shipping and receiving."

"Is Noah okay?" she asked, desperate.

"He hit his head," Rossi said. "But Doyle got away." Turning his attention to the SWAT agents in the room, he snapped his fingers. "Get to the east side of the building. The suspect is heading out that way." Squeezing Emily's shoulder, he gave her a comforting smile. "Noah's going to be okay. I'm going to call the EMTs. Go with them and you'll be able to see him."

Biting her lip, Emily nodded. JJ came up beside her. "I'll go with you," she said.

Without a word, Emily followed after JJ and the SWAT agents as they went down the hall to shipping and receiving. Anxiety rippled through her, raising goose bumps on her skin. She didn't even feel the swelling on her face or the pain. She just wanted to find her son.

As soon as they came in contact with the door beside the sign reading "Shipping and Receiving," Emily broke into a run. She passed the SWAT agents and burst through the door. Up ahead she saw Aaron kneeling on the ground. Noah lay in his arms.

"Aaron!" she cried, dashing toward him. Her lungs burned, and tears started to prick behind her eyes. When she reached them, she dropped to her knees next to Aaron and took a careful look at her son. He lay in Aaron's arms, motionless, but otherwise normal looking.

"He took a bump to the head," Aaron said, not taking his eyes from Noah.

Emily bit her lip and touched Noah's hair. "What about Doyle?" she asked quietly.

Aaron shook his head. "I shot him in the shoulder, but he kept going," he grumbled. Finally looking up, he looked toward the door. "Where the hell are the medics? They should be here by now!"

"They're coming," she promised. "Rossi called them."

His eyes found hers. "Are you alright?" he asked. "It looks like he –"

Emily cut him off. "I'm fine," she said. Reaching over, she took one of his hands and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you, Aaron."

He took her hand back, but his face remained stern. "We've got a lot to talk about," he said gruffly.

She nodded. "I know," she said. "I promise I'll explain everything when this is all over."

XXXXX

"So there's no sign of either of them? None at all?" Emily croaked. The paramedics had just delivered her, Aaron, and Noah to the hospital emergency room. Rossi had come in behind them to give the news of the progress in finding Doyle and Clyde.

So far there was no sign of them. The entire city was looking for them, but so far it appeared they were gone in the wind. For all they knew, they could have been out ofthe country by now. Clyde was more likely to take that route; Doyle though had made it clear he would not leave without Declan, and he had a bullet in his back he needed to get removed.

"Nothing," Rossi confirmed. "We're still looking, though. We'll find them. For now though, you're safe here. We've got round the clock protection on the entrances. He's not getting in."

Emily nodded before looking over where Aaron stood with the doctor examining Noah. Her son still lay unconscious, but he now had an IV hooked in his arm. A doctor was lifting his eyelids to check his pupil reactivity.

"Thank you," she murmured, patting Rossi's shoulder. She went to stand beside Aaron as the emergency room doctor examined Noah. She looked at her son, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze as she and Aaron stood over him.

"You should get looked at," Aaron mumbled softly to her, not removing his eyes from their son. "You were beaten."

Scoffing, Emily shook her head. "I'm fine," she muttered. "Besides, I've had worse than this."

He finally glanced over at her. "Do you really want me to make you?"

She snorted. "You're mistaken if you think you can," she snapped. "As soon as the doctor tells us what's going on with Noah, I'm going to find Declan. With Doyle still out there, I don't want him on his own."

"He was fine three floors up with Garcia when we left," Aaron argued. "I'm your unit chief, I can –"

"Don't try and pull rank on me right now!" she hissed.

Before either of them could respond, the doctor cleared her throat and straightened. Crossing her arms over her chest, the doctor stared at both Emily and Aaron like she would atmisbehaving children.

"Excuse me," she said. "Alright, I'm Dr. Carter. Your son appears to have no significant damage. He'll have a bump on his head and a horrible headache when he wakes up, but it doesn't look like he will have any brain injury. We're going to take him up to get an MRI and confirm that, but other than that he's just exhausted. You're both part of the team the other FBI agent is a part of?"

Emily nodded. "Yes. That's right."

"Alright then, go be with him while we take care of Noah's MRI," Dr. Carter said. "We'll come get you when we have him settled in a room." Fixing them with an even sterner look, she added, "And try not to argue the entire time please. I'm sure Noah would rather see his parents smiling at him when he wakes up and not arguing."

Neither Emily nor Aaron said anything in response. They remained silent as Dr. Carter and her team of nurses got Noah's bed ready to move. Leaning down, Emily kissed his forehead before he was rolled away completely.

Once they were gone, Emily looked back at Aaron, meeting his dark eyes and holding his gaze. He sighed. "Emily, I'm sorry," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I didn't mean to try and pull rank on you at a time like this. I'm…I'm just frustrated."

"I don't blame you," she admitted. "But right now we have to figure out how to find Doyle."

He shook his head. "Please, not right now," he said. "Just…just get looked at by one of the doctors." As she looked at him she could see the begging sincerity behind his eyes. His concern for her radiated back at her to the point she could almost feel it caressing her. "Do it for me."

Relenting, Emily knew this was the least she could do for him after all the bombs that had just been dropped in his life. "Alright," she said. "I'll do it."

XXXXX

Nearly forty five minutes after sitting down in front of the doctor for the examination Aaron begged her for, Emily was released from the emergency room. It turned out she needed several stitches in her hairline. Aaron stayed with her the whole time, silently observing the doctor's instructions on how she should take care of herself.

"That went way longer than it needed to," she said as they started for the doors of the emergency room. She yawned and glanced at her watch. Almost seven o'clock in the morning. "Has anyone gone to see how Morgan is doing?"

Aaron shook his head. "No," he replied. "I sent the others home to get some rest. They needed it." He rubbed his forehead. "I don't even think Garcia knows we're back yet."

"We better let her know then," Emily said. "She'll be worried sick by now, knowing her."

And knowing how she was about Derek when I last saw her,Emily added silently.

Aaron pulled the door and held it for her so they could exit the emergency room. However, as she was about to thank him, her eyes drifted to the elevators. A head of honey blonde hair caught her attention, and she noticed it was Penelope when she observed her closer. Beside Penelope was Declan. Emily raised her hand to wave to her, but halfway up her arm dropped.

Standing in front of Penelope was none other than Ian Doyle. His back arched as he hunched over, and she could tell breathing came difficultly for him. A dark black circle of blood was visible on his right shoulder where Aaron had shot him.

Penelope stared wide-eyed at Doyle, her face stark white. Doyle stepped forward, closer to her and Declan.

"Declan," Doyle said, his voice gruff. "Declan, don't you recognize me?"

Aaron retreated behind the door again, pulling his phone out and dialed a number. Emily watched as his lips moved, and snuck around one of the pillars to get a better angle with which to see Doyle from. She felt at her side for her gun.

"No?" Declan said with a questioning tone. "Who are you?"

"Get away from him," Penelope snapped at Doyle as hetried to go forward. She stepped in front of Declan, shielding him from view.

Though she could not see his face, Emily imagined Doyle was raging. He stopped short at the look on Penelope's face. He laughed.

"Ah, Miss Garcia," he said, inching one of his feet closer to Penelope and Declan. "How's Agent Morgan doing? Did I kill him, or merely injure his perfect body?"

Penelope narrowed her eyes. "I said: stay away from him," she hissed, ignoring Doyle's comment about Morgan. She moved so she was completely in front of Declan now.

Doyle's taunts immediately disappeared when he realized Penelope would never let him take Declan. Emily prayed her friend could keep him talking long enough for her to get a shot. She ducked behind another pillar, remaining hidden while she soundlessly pulled her gun from its holster.

"I may have lost the other two, but I can at least kill youhere and now," Doyle growled. He reached behind to behind his jacket and pulled out a gun. Pointing it at Penelope, he flipped the safety off. "I'm not going to ask you again. Give me my son."

Fear filled Penelope's every feature, and she started to shake with fright. She refused to move, though. With a croaking voice, she repeated herself, "No." Declan behind her stared at Doyle in shock. He grasped Penelope's arm from behind, confused by what was going on.

Emily leveled her gun so she could aim at Doyle. She had a very narrow shot she could take, but she needed to remainsteady or she risked hitting Penelope. Her arms shook with nerves, but she forced herself to breathe.

_You can save them both,_ she told herself. _You can end this now._

"You bitch!" Doyle hissed, aiming his gun directly at Penelope's forehead. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she still refused to move. "If you won't get out of the way, then I'll just –"

Before he could finish his sentence or fire his gun, Emily pulled the trigger of her own weapon. She almost did not realize she had pulled it until after her wrist registered the gun going off. The sound of the blast reverberated through the hospital lobby. Emily's ears rang with the gunshot, and she watched as the bullet struck Doyle right below his earlobe.

Penelope yelped as the blood from Doyle's neck wound sprayed onto her blouse and face. She watched in horror as Doyle's back went rigid, and he stumbled to the side. Breathing raggedly, he clutched his neck. The blood seeped through his fingers, and he fell back against the tile of the floor. Both Penelope and Declan watched in shock as Doyle dropped to the ground, his whole body limp.

Emily emerged from behind the column where she had shot Doyle and hurried toward Declan and Penelope. Penelope stared in horror at the body on the ground, not moving a single inch. Declan went to Emily, both of them throwing their arms around one another. She kissed his forehead, holding him close.

"Are you alright?" she murmured in his ear. As she held him, she saw people spilling into the lobby, eager to find the source of the gunshot. Aaron came toward her, his gun out as he went to check for signs of life from Doyle's body. He kept the gun level with Doyle's skull, but there was no logical way he was still alive.

"Yeah," Declan said, hugging her back. "Penelope kept all the –" He stopped as he looked up at Penelope. "Oh my gosh! Penelope, are you okay?"

Emily released Declan and looked up at her friend. Penelope stood pressed against the wall, refusing to budge. Her eyes stared blankly at Doyle's body, flicking between the body and the gun he had just pointed at her. She breathed unsteadily, her hands pressed to her stomach as she tried to keep her limbs under control.

Rising from her place at Declan's side, Emily went toPenelope. She grasped her wrists gently. "Are you alright?" Emily asked. Penelope refused to look away from Doyle's body, prompting Emily to rub her shoulders. "Garcia, look at me." Shaking Penelope, Emily repeated herself in a firmer voice.

"Huh?" Penelope said, delirious. Her eyes drifted to Emily, but they appeared glossed over.

"Thank you," Emily whispered, pulling Penelope into a hug. "I saw you keep him safe." Penelope remained still,shock clearly coursing through her. Pulling out of the hug to look at Penelope closer, she knit her brows together. Her friend still had not moved, and her eyes had gone back toDoyle. "Penelope, look at me."

"She's in shock," Aaron said as he approached them. "We need to get her –"

Suddenly, Penelope came to life, like a sleeping dragon now awakened. Her eyes snapped toward Aaron and Emily, and to both their surprises were blazing with fury. "I'm not going anywhere with either of you right now!" she snapped, shoving Emily's hands away. "You've both treated me like a doormat, even when I've done everything I could to help you." She pointed at Doyle's body. "Derek is upstairs fighting for his life because of that bastard over there, and the two of you haven't even shown you care! Prentiss, you knew all this time about Ian Doyle, but you didn't tell anyone. And Hotch, all you did was yell at me for things she didn't tell me. So you know what? I'm done for right now. You can text me if you need me, but right now I'm going home!"

Without another word, Penelope pushed past Emily and Aaron and stormed out of sight.

Neither of them spoke. They stared after Penelope in shock as she pushed her way out of the hospital.

"Should one of us try and go after her?" Emily asked once she got over the shock of Penelope's speech. She felt horrible as her friend disappeared from view. She had been so focused on keeping her own family safe she had not even thought about what she had done to Derek. Her stomach dropped several feet.

Aaron shook his head. "Let her go," he murmured. "We should get this taken care of, though." He gestured to the body of Ian Doyle.

Emily nodded and went back to Declan. He stood over his father's body, staring at his body with a curious expression. She put her hands on his shoulders, looking at Doyle as well. Relief flooded through her as she gazed at his body. It was finally over for Doyle.

"Was this my dad?" he asked. "He said he was."

She bit her lip and kissed the top of his head. "Yes," she murmured. "We can talk about him later. Right now though, there's someone I want you to meet."

Declan looked up at her and arched a brow. "Who? I already met that guy over there." He pointed to Aaron.

"No, no," she said, starting to lead him away from Doyle body. "This is someone else. We're going to meet your brother."

Declan's eyes went wide. "I have a brother?" he asked in amazement.

Emily smiled. "Yeah," she said. "And he's getting an MRI right now, but as soon as he's out, I want you to meet him. You okay with that?"

"Yeah," he said in a soft voice, looking at Doyle one last time. "I want to."

Taking his hand, Emily motioned for him to follow her. She turned to Aaron. "We're going to go find out if Noah is doing alright. Did you want to come?"

Aaron nodded. "I'll be up as soon as I give the situation to the local PD and make some calls," he said. He met her eyes, his expression softening. "I'll be up soon as possible."

Without looking back at Doyle, she left with Declan. They walked out of the lobby together. She ignored everythingbut her sons. She was ready to leave Ian Doyle behind. Clyde might still be out there and Penelope was pissed as hell at her, but right now she was going to be with her children.

XXXXX

Penelope opened the door to her and Sam's apartment, surprised to find the lights on. She would not have expected Sam to be back after what she revealed to him. Yet when she walked past the kitchen, she caught sight of him. He sat with a blank expression as he stared at the table.

She continued by the room, not bothering to remain with him. There was one reason she came home, and it was not to see Sam. She had no plans to reconcile with him. Nor did she have anything to say.

There was one thing on her mind. It was something she thought might fix everything for everyone.

"Penelope?" he called. "Penelope, are you back?"

She kept walking, ignoring Sam's voice as it followed her down the hall to the bedroom. As she pushed in the room, she dropped her purse on her vanity table and went to the closet to grab her biggest suitcase. She plopped it on the bed before rushing to the bathroom to clean her face and throw her shirt away. Ian Doyle's blood still stained the garments and she never wanted to wear them again. She stared at herself in the mirror as the water ran over the towel in the sink. As soon as she could, she scrubbed her skin until it felt raw.

She wanted no trace of the now dead man staining her skin.

When she was satisfied she was cleaned off, she returned to the bedroom and started throwing clothes in as fast as she could.

"Penelope, you have no right to ignore me right now!" Sam thundered, finally entering the bedroom as she was throwing underwear into her bag. "After what you did, you owe me a hell of a lot more than silence!"

Continuing to pack, she croaked, "What more do you want me to say, Sam?"

"I want you to tell me who the bastard is that you slept with!" he hollered.

She shook her head as she packed. She refused to look up at Sam. It was selfish of her, but she could not bear to look at the hurt on his face. She did not want to see how she had utterly destroyed him. Her stomach churned viciously.

"You know what, it's fine that you don't look at me, but you can at least give me some damn answers," he growled, grabbing her wrist.

Yanking her hand back, she glared at him. When she saw the look in his eyes though, the look of contempt fell from her face. She could not keep it when she saw the look of grief in his eyes.

"Who is it?" he asked.

Bowing her head, Penelope knew the least she could do was be honest with him. "Derek," she whispered.

Sam stared at her, incredulous. "Y – you always told me you two weren't like that," he sputtered. "You said that when we met, and I asked because I thought for sure something had happened between to you both!" She did not respond, and he slammed his hand down on her suitcase. "How could you sleep with him? He's married!"

"You think I don't know that?" she fired back. "Sam, I'm so sorry for hurting you. I'll never forgive myself for what I did to you and Savannah. But something was missing for me. Derek, he…he gave me what was missing, and I love him for that. I'm always going to love him for that." When she blinked, Derek's face swam before her eyes and it made her decision all the more painful. Taking a deep breath, she went on. "I didn't want to fall in love with him, but I can't stop it. He's my other half. You're a great guy, Sam. You're just not the great guy for me."

After she finished, Sam's mouth dropped. When he finally found words, he coughed, "He'll never leave Savannah. Even if he loves you back, he won't do it."

She shook her head, knowing what Sam said was true. "It doesn't matter," she whispered, her heart tearing itself into shreds in her chest. "Because I'm leaving. Everything will be better if I just go."

Swallowing hard, Sam asked, "Where are you going to go?"

Penelope went back to packing. "I don't know," she murmured. She thought of the baby she had growing inside her. With all her heart she wanted her child to know Derek, but that would never happen now. The next best option was to start over where she and her baby could have a brand new life. Maybe she could make it close to as happy as she was when she was with Derek. "Somewhere it will hurt less." She looked down at her stomach. She knew she would probably never find that place. Love for him had created a fire in her she knew would never truly burn out. It might dim over time, but it would always remain there in some way. The only way to keep it dim would be to hide away, though. "Somewhere he won't be able to find me."

_You won't make it two days without Derek,_ the snake whispered to her again. _You depend on him too much._

Sighing, she pushed her subconscious aside and continued to pack. She had a new life she needed to move on to, and she refused to let painful memories get in the way of that.

"I hope you find what you're looking for," Sam grumbled, moving to the door.

"And I hope you find someone better for you than me," she returned.


	24. Bunk Beds - Wants Vs Needs

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Sorry the last one was so sad. We're moving towards that happy ending though, so just hang tight for a little bit longer. Thank you all for your kind reviews, and I hope you'll enjoy this next chapter! For those of you who were waiting for some Derek and Penelope stuff, here it is.**

**SHOUTOUT TIME! Special thanks to ddgorgeous and CeeCee333 for helping me through some of the rougher kinks with the writing process for this chapter!**

"You get some rest, buddy," Aaron murmured to Noah as he helped him into his bed at Emily's house. "You've had a long few days."

Noah slid silently under the covers and pulled his blanket up under his chin. He settled into the pillows and yawned. "Is Mom still coming to say goodnight to me?" he asked.

Aaron nodded. "Yeah," he said. "She's just getting you a glass of water."

"Oh, okay," Noah chirped. "And where's Declan sleeping?" He grinned, but his smile was interrupted by a yawn. "Could we get _bunk beds _for us since he's moving in with Mom and I?"

Smiling, Aaron ruffled his son's hair. "He's sleeping in your mom's guest room." Since finding out he had a brother just last night, Noah had wanted to spend every waking moment in Declan's shadow. Declan, while more reserved, was also eager to get to know his little brother. Aaron and Emily debated if they should tell Noah yet if he had a brother, but in the end, they decided to go ahead with it. It was a lot to process, but it was good news to help fight the trauma he had gone through. "And I don't think Declan is going to share a room with you, bud. He's older than you, so he needs his own space."

Noah pouted. "I could be out of the way, though!" He tried sitting up. "I can –"

"Hey buddy," Emily murmured in interruption as she walked into the room with a glass of water. She smiled through her bruises. Aaron could tell it was painful for her to strain her facial muscles with the black and blue bruises covering her face. "I got your water for you." She went to set it on Noah's nightstand. "You ready to get some sleep?"

"Yep!" Noah yawned. "And Mom? Tomorrow, can we go get lunch with Declan and Dad? Declan is cool. I want to hang out with him more."

Emily smiled. "We'll see," she said, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. "Right now though, you, my main man, need to get some sleep."

Wiggling his arm out of the blankets, Noah gave her a thumbs up. "I'll try," he said.

Aaron flipped the light off as he and Emily left the room. They shut the door silently behind them. She sighed and started for the stairs again. "Declan is asleep in the guest room," she said. "Louise went back to her house to get things to make the move down here. Anderson and Hoss are on the outside for the first shift?"

"Yeah," he said. "But if everything we've profiled about Clyde stays true, he won't show up. The muscle behind this all was Doyle."

"I feel safer with them out there anyway," she said as they headed into the kitchen. "What time are you going to head out?"

He shook his head. "No," he said. "If you're alright with it, I want to stay here. Just in case." He observed her closely to see if she would object. Knowing Emily, she would not want to talk about her past or Declan at a time like this. But he could hardly stand how angry he was right now. He kept a lid on it, but inside he was raging, ready to explode.

She stared at him, but did not object. "Alright," she replied. "I'll go get some sheets for you, and we can set them up on the couch."

"The sheets can wait," he said, gruffly. "You have a lot to explain to me, Emily."

Emily stared at him, not blinking. "Where do you want me to start?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to maintain his composure. "Well, why don't we start with the fact you have a son from another relationship that you _never _mentioned before," he snapped. "A relationship with a terrorist, I should add."

She did not respond immediately. With a heavy sigh, she sat down at her kitchen table and rubbed her temples. "I did what I thought I had to do to keep everyone safe," she muttered. "Clearly that didn't work the way I wanted it to."

"Clearly," Aaron commented dryly. He went to sit opposite of her. "That doesn't tell me much, though. You and I were married for two years. We have a son together! You didn't think you could at least tell _me_ about the fact you have another son? Hell, I could've helped you find him if you had said something. Or at the very least I could've asked Garcia to find him."

"Declan deserved a better life than what I would have given him," she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest. "He didn't need the fact that his father was a terrorist hanging over him, or the fact that his mother only had him because she was on a mission. I was originally going to find them, and meet up with them after they escaped from the villa. But then when we lost one another, I thought it would be better for him not to know me. He deserved better than the legacy his parents would leave him with."

Aaron shook his head. "Did you ever want to tell me?" he demanded. "Or was I just a distraction for you so you could focus on things other than the fact you'd lost Declan?"

She fixed him with an annoyed stare. "Do you really think I _didn't _want to tell you?" she asked. "I wanted to tell you every single day we were together. Hell, I wanted to tell you even after the divorce! I wanted Noah to know his brother, and for Declan to know Noah. But I wanted to keep you all safe, too."

"Until Doyle got out of prison, what exactly was there for us to be safe from?" Aaron asked. "He was locked up in North Korea, and there was no reason to think he would ever get out."

"It didn't change that I was afraid for all of you," she insisted. "I needed a way to keep you safe, and in my mind, keeping it a secret was the only way I could do it." She shook her head. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you and the boys. That was my way of protecting you. I'm not saying it worked well, or that I was right to do it. I'm just saying that's my rationale for thinking like that."

Aaron remained silent, staring at her in disbelief. This was more he heard from Emily in the two years they were married. It amazed him that in the span of a few short minutes, she spilled every detail about her feelings from the past.

_Not something I'm used to_, he thought, rubbing his forehead.

"I'm sorry," Emily murmured, her voice growing even softer. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted to so many times, but I was scared. I've never been scared of anything else in my life but losing you three." She snorted. "Garcia was right. I should have told you all. I was selfish…I _am _selfish."

As he looked into her eyes, he saw the sorrow her words evoked. She wrung her hands together, and suddenly Aaron felt his anger begin to evaporate. He tried with all his might to keep it from disappearing – he _wanted _to be mad at her for what she had put him through – but it slipped through his fingers like vapors.

Sighing, he shook his head. "You were trying to protect us," he admitted with reluctance. "That's something I can't resent you for. The secrets, though….that will take me a long time to get over." Before he could think rationally, more words came pouring out that he was not sure he wanted to say just yet. "But Emily?"

"What?" she mumbled, not even looking up at him. She probably assumed he was preparing to lecture her once again.

Instead, he took her hand. The gesture caused her head to shoot up and stare at him with shock. "No matter how mad I am, no matter how long it takes me to forgive you, I'm always going to love you. I'll always be here to help you, even if I don't support your decisions."

Emily watched him carefully as he held her hand. After holding one another's gaze for a lingering moment, she rose to her feet. "I'm going to go get your sheets," she said as she started out of the kitchen. Before she disappeared from the room, she turned and added over her shoulder, "The two of us owe Penelope one hell of an apology. We need to call her tomorrow, first thing."

"Agreed," Aaron said, remembering his team's technical analyst's reaction from earlier. When Emily disappeared from view, he leaned back in the chair he was sitting in and looked up at the ceiling. He had no idea where his life was about to go, and right now he was too pissed to think clearly. He needed rest.

After the last forty eight hours he had endured, he deserved it.

XXXXX

The sound of beeping machines roused Derek's senses. His eyes remained closed, but he could feel the air in the room against his skin. He twitched his fingers, feeling a coarse fabric against his calloused fingertips. A steady humming reached his ears.

_Where am I? _he thought.

He tried to remember what had happened that would land him here, and suddenly memories began to flicker back through his brain. It played out like a movie reel behind his eyelids. He saw Noah Hotchner's school, men in masks, guns pointed at him. He could hear Noah's screams ringing in his ears and the sound of a gun going off.

He remembered the feeling of the bullets ripping through his abdomen.

Once he figured out he was in a hospital, his mind dashed off in a dozen directions. He wanted to know who shot him, what was going on. Clearing his throat, he tried to open his eyes. His lids felt heavy at first, but he managed to get them open.

Bright white light greeted his vision. He squinted as the glare burned his eyes. Raising his weak arm, he rubbed his face. The skin around his right eye felt like he had been kicked in the face by a horse. Grimacing, he attempted to sit up.

"Don't."

Derek's still-squinted eyes flicked in the direction of the stern voice that had spoken. Across the room he found his wife. She stared at him with cool, unrelenting eyes. A shiver ran up his spine. This was not the look he was expecting from his wife after he woke up from being shot.

"Hey, honey," he croaked. "How long have I been out?"

Savannah rose to her feet and went to stand at the end of the bed. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Why did you do it?" she demanded.

For a moment, he believed she meant getting shot. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play that game with me, you bastard!" she snapped, moving her hands to her hips. "You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about!"

How foolish he had been. His eyes flicked to the door; it was closed. Savannah somehow found out about his infidelity and was getting ready to corner him. Even though he had just woken from surgery, she was going forward with this. She was a doctor; if anything were to happen she would be able to help.

Right now, he was getting what he deserved, though.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she sped on without giving him a chance to get a word out.

"I'm talking about you sleeping with Penelope!" she hissed. "All this time, you told me you were just busy with work…that Hotch had given you 'extra work' that required you to stay late for months on end. But no: you were just fucking your best friend!" Her voice rose in her last sentence.

Derek swallowed hard. How could he not have seen this coming? He was a profiler, a studier of human behavior. He should have known Penelope and he would get caught sooner or later. Looking into Savannah's eyes, he tried sitting up again. "How did you find out?" he asked.

She laughed bitterly. "_That_ is what you're going to say? Not that you're sorry?"

He quickly backtracked, feeling like an ass. "You're right," he said. "And I'm sorry. What I did to you…it's unforgiveable."

"You're damn right it is!" she thundered. She huffed once again, beginning to pace.

As she paced, he observed her face. Her eyes held no sign of tears, only rage. Somehow that surprised him. All these months he thought if Savannah found out she would be crushed. Now all he saw was a fiery, powerful sense of anger. Not at all how he imagined this going.

Savannah faced him again and narrowed her eyes. "What are you staring at me like that for?" she snapped.

Bewildered, he shook his head. "I just didn't think you would…" His voice trailed off.

"What? You thought I would be in tears? That I would beg you to stay with me and love _me_?" she scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. "No, Derek. I'm not the weakling you thought I would be." She shook her head. "Yeah, I'm hurt as hell. But I've cried my heart out. Now, I'm more mad than anything else. You married _me_, and then you turn around and start fucking Penelope? What was it? Why did you start sleeping with her?"

_I was empty, and she fills that emptiness in me, _he thought, looking down at his hands.

Derek did not answer, and Savannah seized the opportunity to go on. "Was I not good enough for you anymore? Does my body disgust you compared to hers?"

"No, it wasn't that at all," he said, rubbing his forehead. His skin was swollen around his right eye, and he winced. Sighing, he shook his head, feeling like a deer in the headlights. "I just…I don't know…"

_I fell in love with her!_ he wanted to shout. He couldn't though, not until he had a chance to tell Penelope first. Against his better judgment, he found his mind wandering to where she might be at that moment. Was she somewhere else in the hospital?

"So now you can't speak English?" Savannah barked a laugh that echoed through the room. She rested her hands on the end of his bed. Staring at the floor, she asked in a softer voice, "Is it because I can't have kids naturally, and you want them now?"

Looking up from his hands abruptly, Derek frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?" Where had this come from? Why was she asking about kids when he had cheated on her?

Savannah met his gaze with intense eyes. "You heard me," she said. "Did you suddenly decide you wanted kids, and rather than going through the treatments with me, you thought it would be easier to do it au natural with a woman who isn't your infertile wife?"

"Savannah, _no_," he insisted, even though he hesitated before speaking. He could not pinpoint why he stopped briefly – he had not thought about being a father except for the occasions Savannah brought it up with him – but he did it. "You know if I wanted kids I would do the treatments with you. This thing with Penelope is something that just happened. She ended it, though."

His wife huffed. "Yeah, she has," she said. "She left town."

He attempted to keep his body from jumping off the bed, and he remained mostly successful. His eyebrows could not be stopped from shooting upward, though.

"She what?" he asked, unable to keep his voice from cracking.

Savannah rested her hands on the end of the bed and fixed him with another fierce glare. "She left…four days ago," she repeated.

Derek remained silent. He was less shocked by the fact he had been unconscious for four days, and more surprised by Penelope leaving.

"Sam and I met up for coffee yesterday," Savannah continued. "You're lucky I found him before he found you because he was ready to kill you when he found out it wasn't just a onetime encounter with his fiancé. He said she came home after Emily shot Ian Doyle, then packed a bag and drove off. She left her cellphone behind. No one on your team knows where she went."

Still, he said nothing. He knew he could not beg Savannah to help get him answers on Penelope. So instead his mind raced at the speed of semis on the highway. Where had she gone? Had she left him a note, some way to find her?

Most importantly, _why _had she left? If Sam and Savannah knew about them, their relationships were effectively over. She did not have to leave, and he could have told her about how he felt.

_What drove you away_? he thought to Penelope.

After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke again. "When do you want me out of the house?" he asked, figuring there was no point in delaying the inevitable conversation.

Savannah shook her head. "Who said anything about you moving out?" she asked.

His eyebrows went even higher on his forehead. "You…" He hesitated and observed Savannah's face. She waited expectantly for him to speak, and he realized in an instant he had no idea where this conversation was going. Savannah appeared to have information, and her eyes sparkled with a challenge. He knew his next words would lead him into a trap, but he had nothing else to say.

"You don't want me to move out?" he stammered out.

"No," she stated simply, going around to sit on the edge of his bed. Her entire demeanor had altered from when he first opened his eyes. She took his hand and held it gently in her grasp. "No, I don't want you to move out. I want us to move forward from this."

He frowned, confused. "I thought you were angry."

"Oh, I am," she assured him. "But I love you, Derek. You're my husband, and no affair with _any_ woman can change that. We can move forward from this. I _know _we can."

Derek stared at Savannah. In that single moment he realized he truly did not know his wife. The reaction she presented him with was nothing like he pictured. He thought she would quiver with grief and weep, but she was much stronger than that.

_I don't know the woman I married at all_, he mused.

"We're going to make it, because I believe you love me," she said, using her fingertips to trace the swollen flesh on his face. "You just got…lost. But without her here, I think you can get right back on track." She stared at him, and he could see the resentment glowing in her eyes.

Guilt kept him from saying anything, but he could not help but think how baffling the whole situation was to him. She sighed at his silence. "Well, now that we've talked, I'm going to go get a nurse and let the doctor know you're awake." She rose to her feet and planted a kiss on his forehead. "I love you."

Blinking rapidly, Derek watched as his wife left the room. When he was left in the silence of the room, he tried to process the information Savannah had left him with. Penelope was gone. His chance to tell her he loved her was gone. Knowing her, she would disappear off the grid, and not emerge again unless she wanted to be found. She knew how to hide, how to run. He saw very clearly what Savannah wanted, but it was so far from what he wanted there was no way the two plans could be in harmony with one another.

But Penelope was gone in the wind. He had nothing left but what Savannah wanted.


	25. Making Up - Misery

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you so much for your reviews and readership, everyone! I appreciate it. Most of the remaining angst in this story will be for Morgan and Garcia, while Emily and Hotch are working on their family situation. Not too much longer on this particular story, and then we'll be on to another one!**

_Four Months Later_

"Can you put the plates put in the dishwasher, buddy?" Emily asked Declan as they were cleaning up dinner at Aaron's apartment. It was her ex-husband's weekend with their son, and Noah had invited his mother and brother over for dinner. In fact, Noah seemed to find a way to invite Emily and Declan over every weekend he was with Aaron.

"Sure thing, Mom," Declan said, flashing Emily a thumbs up. She smiled after him as he toted the plates off to Aaron's dishwasher.

Having both her sons in her life could not have made Emily any happier. She loved being able to come home from a case to see both their faces in her living room. Louise stayed with them when she and Aaron were gone, and everything felt like it was repairing itself. She felt comfortable in her own skin and in her environment.

Only two things were off: her strange relationship with Aaron, and the missing Penelope.

No one had heard a word from Penelope since the morning she left the hospital. After Morgan and Garcia's affair was revealed to the whole of the BAU, everyone was in a state of shock. Not only were they surprised to see what they thought was a platonic relationship was so much more, but they had lost their technical analyst without so much as a word.

It did not surprise Emily that Penelope would leave. She would want to give Morgan's marriage a chance to survive, even at the cost of her own happiness. It angered Emily to see her friend give up a chance with someone she loved to try and save a clearly broken marriage. But it also made her feel guilty because of the way she had treated her in the months they searched for Declan. She never wanted to treat her friend horribly, but if she had known about the affair, she might have been conscious about her behavior.

Penelope was gone in the wind, though. She knew how to hide, and she would certainly make extra sure to stay under the radar this time.

Emily could only wish her friend well until they stumbled across her or she chose to make herself known.

While she could not resolve her relationship with Penelope though, Aaron was with her nearly every day. Thanks to Noah's insistence on having them all together for activities, she saw her ex-husband constantly.

Her feelings remained in a constant state of conflict with him. Since his love confession after Ian Doyle was killed, she wished she could find a way to respond. She had yet to tell him that she returned his love.

She stared at her nails as she contemplated Aaron. The flesh at her fingertips was no longer swollen and red, and she had nails once again. Clyde remained uncaught, but there was no sign of him anywhere near her or her family. She could not have asked for anything better, save for Clyde being thrown behind bars.

"Emily?"

Looking up, Emily caught sight of Aaron in the doorway. She tucked her fingers away, but she knew he would know he had been observing her nails. That was why he was the best at what he did.

She smiled at him, and for the first time in a long while, it was genuine. "Hey," she said. "What's up?"

He motioned to the living room. "The boys want to watch _How To Train Your Dragon_," he reported. "I know it's late, but the boys really want to watch it. I said I'd let them stay up only if you said it was alright. You okay to stay another two hours?"

Looking at the clock, Emily saw that it was nearing nine o'clock. By all rights both her sons should have been in bed by now. But when she looked back at Aaron, her own selfishness got in the way. She wanted to stay so she could be with him longer. All the thinking she had been doing about him started to get in the way.

She did not want to leave yet.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of both Declan and Noah. They peeked at Aaron and Emily from behind the corner, their eyes wide with longing as she was left to make the decision.

_I'm such a horrible parent,_ she thought as she opened her mouth. She smiled. "Well," she said aloud, "it is just Saturday. I'm okay with them staying up a bit later than they should."

He graced her with a small smile. "Alright, then," he said. "I'll grab a bag of popcorn and make it."

From behind the corner, both Declan and Noah gave small cheers of excitement before disappearing. Smiling, Emily tagged along after them. "Just so you know, boys," she said as she wrapped her arms around both of them at once, "this is just a one time thing. We're not making a habit of it." She kissed their heads.

"That's okay, Mom," Noah chirped, wiggling out of her grasp to plop himself on the couch. "I promise this will be the only time we ask."

"I'll remind you that you said that when you ask about doing it again in the future," she teased, sitting down beside Noah. She motioned for Declan to sit on the other side of her. Once they were both with her, she kissed the tops of their heads yet again. "I love you both so much, you know that right?"

Both boys responded in the affirmative simultaneously. Declan leaned his head on her shoulder, and Noah wrapped his arms around her neck to hug her.

"We love you, too, Mom," he murmured, holding her tight.

XXXXX

"They're both asleep," Emily murmured hours later, closing the door to Noah's bedroom behind her. The movie had finished, both boys having drifted off toward the end of it. Emily had just managed to drag both of them to Noah's room, and they were now slumbering soundly beneath the covers.

Aaron chuckled as he poured a glass of wine for both of them. "It's after eleven," he said. "I'm not surprised they're tired." He offered her one of the wine glasses.

She smiled as she accepted the wine. "What's this for?" she asked, arching a brow. "Not that I'm complaining. I never say no to some good vino. But…it's not a special occasion or anything."

He shrugged as they sat back on the couch. "Well, I actually do have some good news for you. I got a call from the London Interpol office."

Swallowing hard, Emily sat up straighter. She coughed, almost choking on her wine. "What did you hear from them? Does – does it have to do with Clyde?"

Aaron nodded. "Yeah," he said. "But it isn't something to worry about. It's good news. As you remember, after Doyle died and Clyde Easter got away, every international agency put him on their lists to catch. Well, just yesterday they found him hiding out in Glasgow. They apprehended him and have him in custody."

Emily blinked. She sat in silence for a few moments, unmoving. "That's it?" she asked finally. "They found him hiding in Scotland, and took him in?"

Sipping his wine, he nodded. "That's it." He looked back at her stunned expression and smirked. "What? Did you expect a drawn out gunfight and him to go out in a blazing battle?"

"No," she said after a moment of hesitation. "I just thought that maybe…" She paused to sip her wine. "Okay, maybe I thought something more would happen. But so much went wrong during those months that I thought maybe that streak would continue. No one had anything easy then. It's hard to imagine something happened right."

Her mind shot to so many things as her last sentence left her mouth. The death of Tsia and the rest of her former team. Morgan and Garcia's affair. Aaron.

He arched a brow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that everything went to hell," she said. "For everyone. Nothing has resolved itself. Tsia, Sean, Jeremy…they died, and their families died. Morgan and Garcia made themselves miserable. They've lost their best friend; probably fell in love with each other, and now they're in even worse places than when they started."

Aaron leaned forward and looked at her even more intently. "Emily, none of those are your fault," he insisted. "Your team, they were killed by Ian Doyle and ratted out by Clyde. They knew the risks of their jobs when they took them. Morgan and Garcia? They made their own choices."

"But what I did to you is my fault!" Emily blurted out, not realizing what she was doing until she saw the look on Aaron's face. Once the words left her mouth, she almost smacked her forehead.

This cannot be happening, she thought mournfully. She had not wanted to say anything about this.

Too late to turn back now.

Aaron did not respond, so she needed to just finish. "That night, the one we were supposed to plan Noah's birthday party…" Her voice shook as she stepped toward the words she really wanted to get out. Emotions rolled through her, threatening to take over and interrupt her confession. "What I did to you, by spending that night here and then leaving without a word. I should never have hurt you like that. No one deserves what I put you through."

He opened his mouth finally. "Emily –"

Her nerves sped up. "Wait!" she interrupted, setting her wine aside. She grasped his hand. "Let me finish. Please." Wanting to apologize and right the wrongs she had thrust upon him did not stop her from interrupting him. It was rude, but this apology needed to happen. At the end of the day, apologizing for the hurt she had caused him meant more to her than manners.

_Aaron_ meant more to her than manners.

"Hiding from the world – from connection – is something I've always been good at," she murmured, looking down at his hands in hers. "You know that because you do it, too. I've been hiding from my past for so long, and I didn't think I could trust you with it because I've never truly trusted anyone. I should have known that I could trust you, though. If I can trust anyone in this world, it's you. I forgot that, but I never should have because at the end of the day, I do need someone." Finally looking him in the eye, she touched his cheek. "You're that someone, Aaron."

In his usual fashion, Aaron remained silent. But instead of words, he set his glass on the coffee table and pulled Emily towards him. Her heart sped in her ribcage, and the feel of his breath against her lips made her skin tingle. He did not say anything, and kissed her gently. She returned the kiss, her heart exploding with happiness at just the gentle brushing of his lips. Something so simple that evoked so much passion in her made it obvious her someone was this man right here.

As the heat built in her, she swung her leg up over his hips so she was straddling his waist. She increased the pressure of her kiss, relishing the feel of his tongue stroking against hers. Arousal tickled her nerves, and she hoped she was right about what the night held in store for her.

For them.

Aaron's lips broke away from hers and started to trail down her jaw. She leaned forward and nibbled on his earlobe. "Do you think we can be quiet enough?" she murmured, sneaking her hands up beneath his t-shirt.

He nodded. "Yeah," he growled. "I think we can be."

"Good," she whispered, giggling as he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bedroom.

XXXXX

Derek entered his home through the garage door, rubbing his face as soon as the sounds of arguing voices reached his ears. His mother was visiting, and since her arrival, Savannah and Fran had been snapping at one another every chance they got. Usually they fought about Derek, making him feel like a piece of meat getting torn between two fighting dogs.

Half the time they talked about him like he was not present, and it drove him mad.

Right now, they were doing just that.

"I'm going to talk to him about this!" Savannah shouted.

"Give him a little while longer!" Fran hissed back. "He was shot four months ago. Give him a breather before you get back on the children bandwagon."

Halting, Derek stayed behind the corner of the living room to listen to the conversation. Based on the little he had heard, he could only assume Savannah had mentioned a fertility treatment to Fran.

Savannah snorted a laugh. "You would love for me to forget about kids, wouldn't you?"

"I have never wanted you both to forget about children," Fran snapped. "But I care more about my son being happy right now, and I'll tell you that he is not! He's not in a place to have kids. He needs to fix the issues he's having before bringing kids into the picture."

Derek had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He could only imagine what Savannah's response would be to this.

"Don't give me that bullshit," Savannah said. "I know you don't want Derek and I to have kids just because you hate me. You were probably thrilled when he cheated on me with that _bitch_!"

At the mention of Penelope, Derek froze. Usually he would not be so docile, but the last few months of emptiness while he had been trapped in his marriage to try and apologize to his wife left him without the energy to fire back. He went through his stressful job without an outlet; he had no one to confide in. Hell, he had no idea where Penelope was.

He had the desperate desire to find her, but he knew he could not look for her. There was a reason she left, and even though he wished with all his heart he did not have to, he needed to respect it.

"Do I wish my son had married someone – hell, not just someone! Do I wish he had married Penelope instead of you? Yes," Fran said. "Do I think he should have cheated on you? No, absolutely not. I don't condone that at all. It was wrong, and I'm ashamed of him for doing that. But you make him miserable, and the fact you can't see that proves you aren't the right one for him."

"I do not make him miserable!" Savannah insisted shrilly.

_Yes, you do,_ Derek thought.

"Have you even _seen_ him?" Fran demanded. "I've been here for two days, and already I'm convinced he's not the same man. You think I haven't seen how much he drinks when he thinks we're sleeping?"

Sighing, Derek finally revealed himself to his mother and wife. He was getting tired of this.

"Both of you stop it," he growled as he entered the living room, not having the energy to speak louder. They turned to him in shock. He glared at them. "This is ridiculous. Both of you have been acting like complete idiots."

Placing her hands on her hips, Savannah arched a brow. "Tell your mother that you're not depressed," she ordered. "She seems to think you're having a depressive episode of some sort."

"Well, he's obviously not doing well," Fran insisted back. "He's not himself."

"He doesn't – " Savannah tried to say.

"Enough!" Slamming his palm on the foyer table, Derek silenced them both so they were forced to look at him. Their eyes were wide. "I'm tired of you both acting like I'm not in the room while you argue about my god damn mental state. Just stop!"

Without another word, he turned on his heel and retreated to the safety of his bedroom, hoping neither of them would follow.

His wish came true; he was left in blissful silence for the time being.

XXXXX

After a short period of time on his own, Derek's idyllic alone time came to an unfortunate end. Savannah came into the room with a cup of tea in her grasp and a frown settled on her face.

"Are you willing to talk with me?" she asked softly.

Derek looked up from the file he had in front of him and arched a brow. "Did you make up with my mother?" he asked, already having an idea of what the answer would be.

Sure enough, Savannah rolled her eyes. "No, she went outside to call your sisters," she said. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to talk about you."

He snorted. "What about me?" he asked, annoyed.

"What's going on with you?" she demanded.

"I thought you didn't think there was something wrong with me?" he grumbled, scribbling his signature down in one of the files.

With an irritated sigh, Savannah came and snatched his paperwork away before he could open a new file. "No," she said. "I told your mother I didn't think you were having a depressive episode. But I've obviously noticed something is wrong with you. It's been four months since you were shot. You've been like a ghost the whole time."

"Work is hell, I got shot," he listed off. Before he knew what he was saying, more words came blurting out of his lips. "My best friend left town without a word to anyone."

Savannah's eyes flashed, and she glared at him with the ferocity of a burning sun. "So that's what this is about?" she hissed. "You miss that bitch?"

Derek's eyes shot to his wife's. "Don't call her that," he grumbled. "And that's not what I mean. I miss my best friend, I don't miss her in any other way." That was a blatant lie, but he had to keep up appearances, however poor that appearance may have been. He missed Penelope terribly – so much so he could not even say her name aloud – and anyone with eyes would be able to see that.

"I'll call her whatever the hell I want," Savannah said. "That woman ruined our marriage. We're fixing it, but –"

"Oh, Jesus." Rolling his eyes, Derek rose from his seat and started for the bathroom. "Don't try and act like Penelope is the only one who did this. I was part of it, just as much as her."

"I will blame her! She's why I'm so miserable, why I lost you for six months!" Savannah followed after him. "And if 'missing your best friend' is putting you in this much of a funk for months on end, then you need to forget her. She can't be taking over our lives this much. I want us to move on with our lives, to have babies and grow old together." She ran her hand down his upper arm. "I want us to have that fairy tale ending we always talked about...before you slept with her."

Derek's arm tensed beneath Savannah's touch, and he looked away. His eyes found the sink faucet and remained there as he pondered what she had just suggested. He wanted to scream at her that he could never forget Penelope. That was who he wanted the "fairy tale ending" his wife had mentioned. At this point though, he did not believe he would get that ending.

The overwhelming emptiness he felt every day started to take over him as he closed his eyes. Penelope swam before his eyes, and he desperately held on to the image of her honey blonde hair and expressive brown eyes smiling back at him.

With Penelope in his vision, he asked himself the same question he had been asking himself for four months: why did he stay with Savannah when he was growing to loathe their relationship?

The answer, he found, lay less in his guilt and more in the fact it was what Penelope wanted.

When he opened his eyes once more, he found Savannah staring at him still. Moving away from her, he shook his head. "I need to get some sleep," he said, his voice lacking any form of life.

With a wounded expression, Savannah shook her head. Her shoulders slumped. "Can't we finish this conversation?"

Meeting her eyes finally, Derek shook his head. "I have to get up early tomorrow to teach a self-defense class," he said simply. "We'll have to talk about it later."

Without paying attention to any more of Savannah's protests, Derek trudged back out of the bathroom to attempt to get sleep. Maybe then he could dream about Penelope and escape the misery his life had become.

XXXXX

Numb. That was how she felt all the time now.

Nothing brought her joy since leaving Quantico. Vermont was nice. The small town she now resided in brought a sense of peace, and she kept busy with her simple job at a bakery. There was no way she could use her computer skills without the possibility of being found. She had a way to hide, but she had no way to remain true to herself.

She did not feel like Penelope Garcia anymore.

"That'll be five dollars even," Penelope said to the customer in front of her. She gave the woman a fake smile. Fake was the only emotion she could muster these days.

The customer returned a genuine smile and gave her a ten dollar bill. As Penelope opened the cash register, the woman spoke, making small talk. "When are you due?" she asked. "You look like you're getting close!"

Swallowing hard, Penelope waited until she handed the customer her change. When she looked up at the expectant eyes of the other woman, she widened her false grin. "Oh, um, in a month," she stammered, placing her hand on her bump. "My due date is the seventh of August."

"I have two girls," the woman said as she shouldered her bag. She winked. "You're having one, too."

Cocking her head to the side, Penelope's face scrunched in interest. "How did you…" Her voice trailed off. She was extremely curious about how the customer was so sure.

"I find that other mothers can tell," the woman responded with a smile. Taking her bag of bread from the counter, she gave Penelope another wink before adding, "I bet the daddy is an extremely happy man. Have a good day!"

Penelope froze. The woman was gone as soon as the words left her mouth, leaving Penelope no time to say anything back. Even if the woman had waited though, Penelope would not have been able to say anything. Her voice froze in her throat, and it would take a jackhammer to dislodge it.

Thankfully it was a quiet day at the bakery, and she was able to sit down for a moment to rest her swollen feet. She looked down at her baby bump and ran her hand over it. A genuine smile lit up her face, and she tried to banish the memory of the woman's mention of this baby's father. She worked too hard to keep herself together; she was not about to fall apart now.

To keep her thoughts of Derek and guilt at bay, she focused entirely on her baby. She would be able to achieve some semblance of happiness if she kept her mind on her quickly approaching future. Mixed into that happiness was a twinge of fear. She was going into this all on her own with no support system.

That terror alone terrified her and made her want to call Derek to spill the truth, but she knew that was not an option. She needed to stick to her decision to give Derek's marriage a chance. One day she would find a way to tell him about their daughter, but not until he and Savannah were back in love.

Staring down at her belly, she rubbed her palms in a wide circle. "You're so loved, sweet girl," she murmured to her bump. "Mommy loves you so much. I always will."


	26. Deception - A Mother's Plea

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for all the reviews, guys! I'm glad you're still hanging in there with me on this one. We're getting to that resolution, so it's only a few more chapters. This chapter is a big one, and it also has a brand new person's POV, which will give you all a look into her head. Thank you again so, so much for your kind reviews and readership. I really appreciate it!**

Savannah lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her husband walked into their room and dumped the contents of his pockets onto his dresser. Fran and he had gone out to dinner, and since their fight had happened a mere two days ago, Savannah decided to stay behind. He remained completely silent. Rolling her eyes, Savannah sat up, deciding she would be diplomatic and speak first.

"How was dinner with your mom?" she asked, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

"Fine," he replied, his voice blunted and forced.

She narrowed her eyes when he returned to ignoring her and went to pick up a towel from the clean laundry pile. "Are you taking a shower then?" she asked, even though she knew the answer.

"Yeah," he replied, striding into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, leaving Savannah in the silence of their bedroom. She sighed as soon as she heard the shower water turn on.

This was what her marriage had become: a mess of jumbled words and awkward silences. She tried telling herself that it was only a matter of time before the man who had stolen her heart almost three years ago came back to her. But it was no use. No matter how much she tried to give herself a pep talk though, she knew in the deepest recesses of her heart he would be lost to her forever.

He loved Penelope; there was no room to question it.

Somehow that did not matter to Savannah, though. Her husband's affair weighed heavily on her mind every day, and she wanted to make him pay. The pain of finding out his mistress had been Penelope, and knowing that her "friend" had gotten pregnant when she herself could not, drove Savannah wild with rage.

She wanted them both to suffer, the same way she had. This love she had for Derek destroyed her in a way no other had. The betrayal of not only her husband, but her friend as well, left her scarred and vulnerable. She found herself wishing frequently that this had all just been a bad dream, and she would wake up to find all of this had been a mere scary fantasy in her mind.

It was no nightmare, though. Her subconscious could not bend this to her will. It was reality. Hard, scary, unbreakable reality.

As she sat on the bed, her hands clenched into tight fists, Derek's phone rang from the dresser. The incessant buzzing began to annoy her, and she ignored it as long she could. Within another five minutes, the phone was back to ringing. With a growl of frustration, Savannah rose from the bed to answer the phone. It was not a number saved in his contacts, and it was a strange area code.

It said Vermont beneath the number.

Frowning, she answered the phone. "Hello?" she muttered, rubbing her forehead.

"Hello? Derek!" a voice cried into the phone.

Savannah's back straightened immediately. She recognized this voice. She would know it anywhere. Glancing at the bathroom door, her eyes narrowed. The shower continued on, but to be sure her husband heard nothing, Savannah strode from the room. As soon as she was in the hallway, she returned her attention to the phone call.

"What do _you_ want?" Savannah hissed into the receiver.

A short silence filled Savannah's ear. Clearly Penelope had not anticipated hearing from Savannah when she called Derek's cellphone. Savannah had to resist the urge to scream bloody murder at the hussy on the other side of the phone.

With a shaking voice, Penelope finally recovered her ability to speak. "Savannah," she said with caution. "I know I'm the last person on the planet you want to hear from."

"You're damn right I don't want to hear from you!" Savannah snapped.

Penelope sniffled. "I know, I know," she murmured. "I almost didn't call. But…but I just went into labor."

Savannah sucked in a breath. Of course Penelope was going into labor. It had to happen sometime. Her heart turned to stone in her chest, and she stared out the window. Hatred burned through her veins as she waited for Penelope to continue.

"I didn't want to call, but I – " Penelope stopped again, choking over her voice. She whimpered when she picked up again. "I'm alone and scared. I thought I could do this, but I can't. I – I need to talk to him."

Snorting, Savannah contemplated telling Penelope to go to hell. But as Penelope prattled on about being scared, an idea struck Savannah. It felt as though she had been slapped in the face by a professional boxer. Looking back toward her bedroom and the closed bathroom door.

"I told him after you disappeared about the baby, you know," Savannah said.

Penelope was silent for a moment. "I…you did?" she asked.

Savannah chewed on her lip. "Yeah," she lied, seamlessly weaving her lie. "He didn't seem all that thrilled. In fact, he was relieved you took off so he wouldn't have to deal with it."

The tears in Penelope's voice became evident. "Oh…well…can you just g – get him? I just want to tell him I'm having her now," she croaked, a soft sobbing following her question.

_Here we go_, Savannah thought. This was the final act of her revenge against her tormentor. "I'll pass along the message," she said with faux diplomacy. "He's in the shower right now. Don't expect him to come find you, though. He and I have been talking about renewing our wedding vows. Sort of like a way to start over after your little indiscretions."

Sniffling, Penelope replied, "I…thank you for telling him. I'm in a town called Harrington. There's only one hospital here."

"Fine," Savannah snapped. She hung up the phone without another word. She would never have done this to another person under usual circumstances. But this was no usual circumstance. Looking down at the phone, she erased all evidence of the phone call and went to return Derek's phone to the dresser.

As she set the phone down, the shower turned off in the master bathroom. She could not help but feel satisfied with herself. After what they did to her, she deserved this revenge, this chance at making the two of them suffer. If Derek knew about his baby – a daughter, apparently – Savannah knew, without a doubt, he would be out the door. It did not matter if he wanted children or not; he would be gone if he found out, if even just for an excuse to leave her.

The past months of his misery made it clear he would not hesitate to go.

_Just what Fran would want_, Savannah thought, bitter.

XXXXX

Aaron started packing his briefcase at seven o'clock in the evening, ready to go home to his sons and Emily. Declan and he had bonded quite well, and even though it had been less than six months since they brought him into their homes, he asked that he be able to call Aaron his dad.

A rare, wide smile crossed his face as he thought about his home life. What felt so fragmented and stilted without Emily in his life was stitching itself back together again. The boys were so far unaware he and Emily were spending time together; they thought they were having a sleepover and Emily was coming back in the morning.

It was a damn good thing they did not know what was going on while they were asleep.

As he smiled and packed, a soft knock sounded from his door. Not even looking up, he called out, "C'mon in!" He hoped it would be a short conversation so he could get out the door.

The door opened, and to his utter shock, a very surprising voice spoke. "Hello, Agent Hotchner."

When he looked up, Aaron found Fran Morgan standing in his doorway. Her face was pale, her eyes red and splotchy. The smile fell from Aaron's face. "Fran? What happened?"

Fran stepped into the room with hesitant steps, wiping her eyes as she closed the door behind herself. Aaron stepped around his desk and guided Fran to sit on the couch. He sat opposite to her in his armchair. Patiently, he waited for her to speak. In the meantime, he offered her a tissue.

Gladly accepting the tissue, Fran blew her nose before speaking. "I'm sorry to be here like this," she apologized.

Aaron shook his head. "No, don't apologize. Take your time."

She wiped her eyes again, shaking her head. "I don't know what to do about Derek," she finally admitted. "He's…not himself. I'm afraid he's going to run himself into the ground. Have you seen him?"

Of course Aaron had seen him. Morgan had been utterly miserable for the past few months. He went on cases as a ghost, and no one had seen him smile since…well, since Penelope left.

He nodded. "Yes," he said. "He's not doing great."

Fran shook her head. "It's more than that!" she wept. "He's _gone_. My son isn't there. Part of it is Savannah. I know it. The way she talks to him is just…" She paused to shake her head. "I know what he did was wrong. He should never have cheated on her. I just can't stand the way she's treating him. And he isn't saying anything to her, which I can't imagine makes her very happy. It breaks my heart."

Aaron remained silent. He had no idea of what to say. In truth, he had not seen Savannah in months. He could only imagine how she felt, and he had to use that imagination to see what Fran was describing.

"Have you tried to talk to Derek about this?" he finally asked. "If he'll listen to anyone right now, it's you. Without Garcia, you're the only one I can imagine getting

Fran bit her lip. "He misses her," she murmured. "He can't even stand to hear her name. I just wish he could find it in him to be happy. His house is miserable, and I'm only going to be there until tomorrow afternoon. He needs someone to break him out of this…well, whatever this is."

Somehow, Aaron had great doubts about how much influence he would have over Derek's mood. "I'll talk with him," he promised. "We'll figure out what to do."

XXXXX

"Morgan's mother stopped by to see me before I came home," Aaron murmured, running his hand up Emily's arm. They lay beneath the sheets at Emily's house, and the clock neared midnight.

Emily frowned beside him. "What was Fran doing there?" she asked, leaning up on her elbow.

"She's worried about Morgan," he said. "He's not just acting like a ghost at work."

"That's not surprising," Emily responded, laying her head against Aaron's chest again. "His life is sort of a mess right now."

"Got any bright ideas on how we could help him?" Aaron asked. He moved his hand up to run his fingers through the tips of her rumpled hair.

Arching a brow, Emily snorted. "Short of bringing Penelope back?" She shook her head. "No. She made her choice, and whether or not _we_ think it's the right one, it's what she wants. We have to respect it." She sighed. "I miss her, though."

She looked away sheepishly, and Aaron nudged her gently. "What?" he asked. "You look like you have something you wanted to add to that."

"Well, I actually asked Kevin to try and find her," she admitted, biting her lip. "Not to go after her, but just to see where she was. You know…just in case something happened. Obviously, we didn't find her."

"She knows how to hide," Aaron sighed. "There's nothing we can do to change that."

She sat up again, a probing look on her face. "You don't think people can change? Even with what we do for a living?"

"Parts of us don't," he murmured. "I think we always remember who we tried to change from, and if something happens that sends us spiraling backward, we can revert to it like that." He snapped his fingers.

Emily's eyes narrowed. "Like I did when Doyle came after us?" she suggested, a challenge in her voice.

Aaron's forehead scrunched in confusion. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all," he said.

"Really?" she snapped. She arched a brow. "'Cause it sure sounds like you're saying that."

Frowning, he stopped. She had a point. When he remembered the words he had spoken to her, and realized he might have been implying something. "Okay, maybe unconsciously I _was_ saying that. But that's not a bad thing, at least not in your case or Garcia's."

"Those are the darkest parts of our lives," Emily retorted. "How is that not a bad thing?"

Sighing again, Aaron rolled her beneath him and kissed her soundly. Her mouth against his was sweet, like drinking sugar water mixed with the essence of the wine they had drunk not two hours ago. She did not kiss him back, the way she would when she got annoyed with him. He stopped and rested their foreheads together.

With closed eyes, he held her tighter. "I love you, Emily," he murmured. "Whatever you've done in your past, it doesn't matter. You're _you_, and I'm a better man for knowing and loving you."

She did not say a word, and he feared she was going to ignore him for the rest of the night. Instead though, her body weight slid atop his. The warmth of her bare flesh, gently covering his, made his every nerve tingle with anticipation. His eyes flew open and met hers above him. Her dark eyes grew even darker with passion rising in them. Her lips turned upward in a small, seductive smile.

"Good," she whispered, dropping a kiss on his sternum. Slowly, purposely she trailed her lips up his chest, "Because I love you, too."

He groaned as her hand circled up and down his cock. She giggled as he closed his eyes, and the laugh glued itself in his ears. "Keep touching me," he growled. He claimed her lips again, moaning against her mouth.

Their lips broke apart, and she touched his forehead with the lightest of caresses. She traced her index nail around one of his nipples. The motion sent shocks up his spine, and he dug his nails into her hips. Above him, Emily lifted her hips so she could seat herself on him. He gasped, his hands coasting up her belly to her firm breasts.

Her hands rested flat against his chest, and she stared down at him. Their eyes remained connected as his hips rocked up off the bed. She swiveled her hips, jerking her head back as a shockwave of pleasure visibly ran through her.

His whole world sat above him, and he pulled her down toward him. He could not resist having her closer to him. Drowning in her was all he wanted. Emily, not oxygen, was what he required. The melting of their lips sent a comet of satisfaction blazing through him, and he never wanted to be separated from her again.

She let him have his satisfaction, even if it was only for a few moments. Suddenly, she ripped her mouth from his and returned to her position above him. She watched him, darkened pupils taking over her eyes completely. A ferocity and hunger he never saw in any other woman's eyes raged back at him.

"I want to see you," she purred, increasing the speed of her hips.

Aaron made no noise but a groan. His hands dug into her hips again, and the feeling of an impending orgasm started to creep through him. Even though he knew she loved being on top of him, though, he rolled her under him. He entangled their fingers, thrusting deeply into her to the point their hipbones touched. A breathy moan released from Emily's lips, and one of her hands went up to cup the back of his neck.

"Aaron!" she cried as her tight walls clenched around him.

The sound of his name ripping from her lips sent a reaction coursing through his body. Increasing the speed of his thrusts, Aaron drove into her twice more before exploding in a whirlwind of pleasure. He gritted his teeth as he rode out the waves of his orgasm and filled her to completion.

Collapsing beside Emily's sweaty body, Aaron kissed her temple and sighed. He pulled her close to him by the waist, nuzzling his face into her soft, lily-white neck. The two of them stared at the ceiling, remaining clasped together.

Neither needed to say a word. There were thousands of things to say, but Aaron and Emily did not feel the need to. The body heat shared between them, and the sheer comfort of one another's arms, was enough to know tell them both how much they loved the other, no matter who they had been in the past.

XXXXX

Penelope entered her daughter's nursery after just arriving home from the hospital. The room was not very big, but then again, neither was the house she was renting. In her carrier, her daughter slept soundly. Her eyes were shut, her little pink tongue poking out of her tiny lips.

Looking down at her lovingly, Penelope picked up her baby from the carrier and cradled her in her arms. Her little girl was about three weeks early, but she was absolutely perfect. Her skin had a beautiful caramel tone to it, a shade lighter than her father's, and she had wisps of delicate mahogany hair on the top of her head.

As she sat down in the chair she had bought for the nursery, the baby's eyes flickered open. Penelope had to swallow hard past the lump in her throat. Her daughter had Derek's eyes, too.

"Welcome home, sweetie," she murmured with a smile. Her daughter squirmed, letting out a cry in response. She smiled and unbuttoned her shirt to feed her. "You're just hungry, aren't you?"

While her daughter suckled at her breast, Penelope forced herself to focus solely on the baby in her arms. She knew the moment her mind began to wander she would be a mess of tears. Her labor had been long and painful, even with medication to dull the agony.

The worst part had not even been the fact she was alone. It was knowing Derek knew about their baby and had not come when Savannah had told him where she was. That brought her more pain than any hours she had spent in labor.

_Stop thinking about him, Garcia_, she scolded herself. _You knew this was how he would react; you knew he didn't want kids._

Tears burned behind her eyes, clouding her vision as she refocused on her baby. To her dismay, her daughter slept soundly once more. She wished she could have something to focus on to avoid the painful emptiness that followed her everywhere now. Gently, Penelope kissed the little girl's forehead before she laid her in the crib.

With her empty arms, Penelope fell back into her chair. Her limbs could no longer withstand her weight, and she became faint. The silence of the house began to crush her, compressing her lungs until there was no hope of getting air.

_He didn't care enough to even call? _she thought, her chest tightening. Months had passed since she last cried over Derek, but with their daughter finally here, the pain became too great. Trickles of salty tears crawled down her cheeks. She sniffled, wiping her face. Surely Derek would want to know she was okay, even if he did not want to be in their child's life.

They had been best friends after all.

Curling up in the chair, she choked on a sob. She missed her old life and the people from it, but that life was over now. She needed to accept she would be alone. Now that Derek refused to contact her, she possessed the sign she needed to truly give up.

She rose from her seat to stand over her daughter's crib. Stroking her baby's cheek, she murmured, "It's just you and me, baby girl."

There was no looking back now.


	27. Finding Out

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**I know the people rooting for Morgan and Garcia are a bit distressed by what happened in the last one, but if you've read any of my other stories, you'll know not to worry too much ;) Thank you so much for reading and/or reviewing!**

_6 Months Later_

"I'm glad you decided to come out to dinner with me," Savannah said. "You all have been on so many cases lately that I feel like we haven't seen each other in months." She gave a little giggle.

Derek nodded without saying a word. He sat down across from her. His eyes scanned the dining room of the fancy French restaurant he had taken his wife to. The past few months had gone better – not great, but they argued less – with Savannah, partly because his mother had gone home and ceased communication that might put her in contact with his wife. He was more than fine with that; as long as he was able to talk with his mom, he did not care how what Savannah thought.

Glancing down at the menu, Derek finally spoke. He still did not make eye contact with his wife. "I don't have any idea what I'm going to get," he said, ignoring her comment about coming out with her.

Savannah giggled. "You want me to order for you?"

He shrugged, lacking the energy to even give her a word. Even though relations in his household were drastically improved, he had begun to fall into the depression his mother and wife had thought he was in months ago. He felt like a shell of himself, hollow on the inside so that if someone knocked on his skull he thought it might sound like knocking on a door.

He was no longer assertive, tough as diamonds Derek Morgan.

"Uh, sure," he responded, closing the menu. "Let's get a bottle of wine, too."

"Oh, of course!" she said, waving her hand in front of her. "What's a date without a good bottle of wine?"

Derek attempted a smile, and he was almost half successful with it. As he was about to respond, the waiter appeared to take their orders. Savannah did all the talking, for which Derek silently thanked her. He could barely manage a few sentences to Savannah, and he probably would not be able to muster even a few words to the stranger.

As soon as their waiter disappeared again, Savannah reached over the table and took both his hands. His muscles tensed unconsciously, but she did not seem to notice.

"You seem really stressed, honey," she remarked. "Is there anything you wanted to talk about?"

_How about how I don't want to be with you? _he thought to himself. _I still want Penelope._ They had not fought about Penelope since his mother's visit, but that could not stop him from missing her every day. He missed her soft body, her witty and sexual banter with him, her blinding intelligence.

Instead, he swallowed hard and shook his head in defeat. "It's work," he muttered. "I'm dog tired all the time."

Her face brightened. "Well, what if we did something special?" she asked. "What if we renewed our wedding vows? We could take time off and go somewhere, maybe a nice beach…" She batted her eyes, hopeful. Whether she knew she was doing it or not, he could not tell. But the gesture was making him uncomfortable.

"Er, I doubt I'd be able to get enough time off for something that big," he said, sullen. "We'd, uh, have to wait until something like Christmas to do that."

_I really don't want to do that,_ he thought.

Savannah's face fell. She released his hands and placed them demurely in her lap. Thankfully the waiter came back to relieve them of the burning silence between them. She set wine glasses down on the table and popped the cork out to pour the drinks. Once they had wine, the waiter prepared to write their orders. Derek mumbled out that he would have the same thing as his wife and gave the menu to the waiter.

As soon as they were alone again, Derek sipped his wine, praying Savannah would speak first so he would not have to come up with something.

And thankfully she did.

"So, I wanted to talk to you about something," she said, folding her hands in front of her.

He swirled his wine in his glass before meeting her eyes. "Oh?" he asked. "What is it?"

Savannah held his gaze for a long moment before speaking. Hesitation rested in her eyes, but she eventually opened her mouth. "I found a new fertility treatment," she began. "It isn't as much money as some of the other ones, and it's been proved to be extremely effective. It's got a thirty percent success rate, which is really high for invitro. I think it would be a great one for us." She smiled.

Feeling trapped in the middle of train tracks with no escape, Derek stared at her. His opinions on children with Savannah had not changed. However, he _had _been thinking about his dream he had months ago about Penelope and a son. Nothing could banish it from his mind.

Why did it keep haunting him? And worse, there was no one to sort his feelings with. His psyche was losing it, and that frightened him. At this point, all he had was his job. If he could not keep his head level, he would not be able to do it.

Grimacing, Derek sighed. "Savannah, I…." He fought with his tongue to find the right words. "I'm just not ready." He rubbed his chin. "I don't think I would make a good father. I obviously have some, er, commitment issues, and I can't do that to a baby."

Tears welled up in her eyes. With trembling lips, she stammered, "Bu – but…." She covered her mouth, seemingly attempting to keep a cry in. Wiping her eyes, she said, "Derek, I'm _thirty five_. I'm getting older, and to have kids I need to do it soon. We can work on making you a good father. When you see our baby, you'll fall in love and want to be a daddy." She reached across the table to take his hand, but this time he pulled it back to rub his head.

All of the sudden, Savannah's eyes narrowed. She sat up straighter, looking like a lioness ready to pounce on her prey. A tingle went up Derek's spine. Here was yet another side of his wife he had never experienced.

'What in the hell is your problem?" she snapped. "I am your _wife_; you are my husband. Does my happiness mean nothing to you?"

Bowing his head, Derek rubbed his temples and scowled at his lap. He did feel guilty for hurting his wife. He knew there was no way to make up for it. Penelope thought by leaving he would manage to be happy, but without her in his life he could hardly breathe without his lungs burning with grief.

"Of course your feelings matter to me," he said, feeling like he was half-lying. "But I can't do this to a baby. It wouldn't be fair."

Savannah shook her head, remaining firm in her desire to talk about this. "What about what's fair to me?" she demanded. "I would be a great mother! I could teach you how to be a parent." Her glare intensified. Her voice lowered dangerously. "I deserve this after what you did to me." She lowered her voice. "You and that bitch."

Anger boiled within Derek. He knew it should not have, but he could not avoid it. He was not going to sit by while his wife insulted his best friend. His best friend who he could not think about without his chest growing numb.

Leaning forward in his seat, Derek kept his voice equally low to avoid drawing attention from others in the restaurant. "I have told you before: do _not_ call her that," he growled. "I know what we did was wrong. On _every _level. But Penelope was guilty all the time. She felt horrible for what she was doing to you. If you want to blame someone and call them every awful name in the book, you do it to _me_. You blame _me_."

Whereas Derek leaned forward in his seat, Savannah leaned back. Her eyes narrowed and filled with venom so poisonous it might have killed Derek on the spot right then.

"You're in love with her," she hissed. "That's why you don't want kids with me. It's not this bullshit about not being ready to be a father; it's that you want kids with her!"

"Maybe I do!" he snapped without thinking. "I was happier than I've ever been in my life with her. I smiled more, I was able to do my job with a support system when I needed one. I found who I am with her! Penelope makes me the person I want to be, and in a lot of ways I don't deserve her."

He realized his hands clenched in fists on the tabletop, but found himself unable to flatten them. Anger took control of him to the point he was not calming down anytime soon.

"Well, you don't deserve me either," Savannah spat back. "You and your lover can go be happy with the bastard kid you never wanted!"

Derek froze. Savannah's words hit him like a punch in the gut, and his mouth dried up. Suddenly a smirk formed on her face as she stared at his clear shock.

"That's right," she said. "She got pregnant. I heard her telling you she was four months along while you were unconscious after getting shot last year." Derek was still stunned into silence. He was shot ten months ago, almost a full year. Penelope would have had the baby by now. He still could not speak, so Savannah chose to continue on. "Six months ago, she called your phone. You were in the shower, so I answered it. She gave me some song and dance about being afraid of doing labor by herself. I told her I would tell you, but of course I wasn't going to do that."

Horror replaced Derek's anger. He stared at the wicked gleam in Savannah's eyes before stuttering, "You…why would you do this?" He rubbed his face, still unable to process Savannah's revelation. He felt as if she had slapped him across the face. If Penelope thought Savannah had told him, and he had not shown up, she would think he did not care about her.

She would think she meant nothing to him.

He sat forward with shaking limbs. "She's going to think I –"

"Didn't want the baby?" Savannah finished for him. She nodded, her eyes twinkling. "That's the point, Derek. _This _was my revenge. This is the pain you caused me when you cheated on me. You ruined my life, so I ruined yours back."

Suddenly, his voice leapt up to a yell. "You didn't just ruin my life here!" He did not care the faces of everyone in the restaurant were now on them. His anger came rushing back like a flood rushing from a dam. "Where is she? She called to find me, she would have told you where she was."

Savannah stared at him, blinking innocently.

Rising from his seat, he went to the other side of the table and glared at her. "_Where is she_?" he hissed.

"Sir," the maître de said, coming up behind him. "Sir, you're going to have to leave. You're –"

"Savannah, tell me where she is!" Derek ignored the maître de and watched as Savannah rose from her seat.

She glared at him, coming eye to eye with him. "Why should I tell you that?" she challenged.

"Because you owe that to me."

With ferocity, she slapped him across the face. "I owe you _nothing_," she spat. "You're the cheater here. So keeping you from that baby is the _least _horrible thing I could have done to you."

"Sir! Ma'am!" the host snapped. "Leave now, or we're going to call the police."

"Where's Penelope?" Derek repeated to Savannah, his ears ringing.

Savannah stared at him, but opened her mouth. "Vermont," she answered. "I don't remember where."

The host tried to intervene again. "This is the last time I'm going to ask you both to –"

Whirling around, Derek glared at the maître d. "Don't worry," he growled. "I was just leaving." Striding to the door, he pulled his keys out of his pocket, not caring he was stranding his wife here. He was going to the BAU, and he was going to find Penelope.

Vermont was a whole state to search through, but nothing could stop him from finding Penelope.


	28. Vermont - New Friends

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**So now Derek knows! Obviously we have to deal with that, and we've also got a brief Hotch POV where he'll support Derek's efforts to find Penelope. Thank you very much for your kind reviews, and thanks so much for helping me get to over 300! You're all the best :) I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

"Yes, Director," Aaron said into his phone, rubbing his temples. "Yes, I know it's not going as well as it had been."

The Director of the FBI sighed on the other end of the phone. "The BAU needs to be at a certain standard when it comes to assisting local police forces catching those criminals. Do you have _any _explanation for why it hasn't been going the way it was just a little less than a year ago?"

Looking down on his desk, Aaron fiddled with the little velvet box on his desk. He contemplated his response. There was one reason, and one reason alone why their team's progress was not what it had been.

"Our team's technical analyst, Penelope Garcia left about ten months ago," Aaron explained. "She was the best the Bureau, but now that she's gone we have Kevin Lynch."

The Director snorted. "Well, obviously this Lynch isn't as good as your previous analyst. What about this Garcia? Wasn't she supposed to be working for us instead of going to prison?"

"She only had to work for us for the length of what her prison sentence would have been," Aaron replied. "That finished two years ago. She chose to stay with us, but there were some…" He tried to figure out what word he should use to describe the situation Garcia and Morgan had created for themselves. In the end, he chose one that did not come close to what the reality was. "Garcia had some family troubles, and that's why she left."

"And I take it Lynch is the next best we've got left in Quantico?"

"The best one we could get that wasn't assigned to another team already," Aaron grumbled.

The Director heaved another sigh. "Alright, then," he muttered. "But I want you to try and get a better analyst. Clearly this one you have right now isn't cutting it."

"Yes, sir," Aaron said. "Thank you." Without another word, he hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. He stared at his desk where the velvet box remained, and he finally felt a little better. Sooner or later, he needed to give this to –

"Hotch!" Morgan cried, bursting in the door without bothering to knock.

Hurriedly, Aaron opened his desk drawer and pushed the box into it. As he closed the drawer, he stood up to greet his frantic friend. "What is it, Morgan?" he asked, concerned.

Fury blazed in Morgan's eyes, but it clearly was meant for someone other than Aaron himself. His eyes were not focused on Aaron, he looked like he had been in the same clothes he went on a date in the night before, he had stubble on his face from not shaving in a few nights.

"I need a few days off," he snapped, crossing his arms.

Aaron arched a brow. "Umm, okay," he said. "What's going on, though? Something has you rattled, clearly."

"My bitch of a wife, that's what has me rattled!" Morgan snarled. "She knows where Penelope is. She's known for six months."

Shocked, Aaron crossed his arms over his chest. "How would she know that?" He found it hard to believe Penelope would tell Savannah where she was after sleeping with Derek.

Not truly answering the question, Morgan blazed on. "And there's more," he said. "She had a baby. Savannah's known about that, too. Penelope called me six months ago to tell me she was in labor, and Savannah said she would tell me. Last night, I found out she had been keeping it from me."

Blinking, Aaron could not do anything but stare. He could hardly believe it. So this was the real reason Penelope ran, not her affair. Finally finding his voice, he nodded to Morgan. "Ab – absolutely!" he sputtered. "Where is she?"

"A town called Harrington, Vermont," Morgan growled. "I've been up with Lynch all night searching through birth records in hospitals in the state. They didn't have an address or any way of finding her in that town, but it's where I'll start."

"Well, she's good at staying off the grid," Aaron said. "What are you going to do when you find her?"

Morgan finally met Aaron's eyes and squared his jaw. "I'm telling her how I feel, and I'm going to meet my kid. I don't know a damn thing about being a dad, but that's still my baby. I'm not giving up either of them."

Aaron nodded. He knew Morgan would stop at nothing to find his family. He knew because he himself had gone through the same situation when Noah and Emily had been taken.

"Bring them home," Aaron said, pointing to the office door.

XXXXX

Derek pushed his way into the tiny motel room in Harrington, Vermont. Since getting Hotch's permission to have a few days off, he drove the almost six hundred miles straight to start his search. The whole way there he worried. Penelope was sure to think he did not care for her anymore. It was the exact opposite of that, though.

_I need to figure out how to _show_ her I love her_, he thought, frantically. He plopped himself down on the bed and put his head in his hands. The harder part would be convincing her he _did_ want to know their baby. But then the thought struck him he did not know anything about his own child. He knew the baby was born on July 14, and that the baby was a girl.

Other than that, he was going in blind.

Plugging in his phone for the first time since the previous night, Derek checked his messages. There were several voicemails from his wife waiting for him. He was certain each of them was scathing, and he had no interest in hearing anything she had to say. Without a second thought, he promptly deleted them.

He was done with Savannah, whether Penelope wanted him or not.

With a heavy sigh in his throat, Derek trudged to the bathroom. It was nearing midnight. If he was going to get up and find Penelope tomorrow, he needed to get an early start.

XXXXX

"Have you found her yet?" Emily asked over the phone as Derek was sitting down in the small town's bakery.

He grumbled something unintelligible and shook his head. "No," he muttered. He flagged down one of the waitresses and motioned that he wanted a large coffee. "It's only four o'clock on the first day, though. And this town is small. I don't think it'll be that hard to find her."

"Are you sure she's even still there? It's been six months. Isn't it possible she moved away?"

Derek accepted the cup of coffee the waitress brought him and took a sip before responding to Emily. "I don't know," he said. "But until I'm sure she left, I'm not leaving."

"I want you to, too," Emily murmured. "Aaron told me what you said, that she was pregnant. You ready for that?"

"Yeah, Prentiss," Derek said, confidently. "I am. Yeah, I've got a few things to learn, but I'm gonna show her I'm ready for this, and that I want it."

He could almost hear the smile in Emily's voice. "Good," she said. "I believe you. And I think Penelope will, too."

"After all this?" Derek said, doubtful. "I don't know if she'd take me. She called six months ago."

Emily snorted. "That's why you _tell _her what happened with Savannah," she said in a "well, duh!" tone.

"In a case like this, I don't know if that will be enough," he grumbled.

"Deal with it, tough guy," she replied. "Now, I have to go. I need to pick Noah up from soccer practice. Call me when you can."

Before Derek could demand Emily give him more advice, she hung up. He sighed. Dropping his phone into his pocket, he sipped his steaming coffee again. He looked out the window at the quiet street and sighed. He tried imagining Penelope here, walking the streets with their baby. Was she happy? He hoped her life was not ruined by Savannah's lies. There was a reason she called, and it must have been that she wanted to see him. Maybe she could move on, though.

He wished he knew where she was already.

"Here's your coffee, Norma," the young waitress said to the elderly lady in the booth ahead of Derek.

Norma nodded her thanks and accepted the coffee. "Thank you, Shelby. Oh, and do you know when that nice young lady gets back to work?" she asked. "She was nice enough to help me pick a laptop for my grandson's graduation, and I'd like to tell her he loves it."

Shelby crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. "She'll be back next week," she said. "She was in here the other day with here baby. Have you met the little girl? She's absolutely adorable."

Derek's ears perked up, and he forced himself to try and not stare as they spoke. Helped pick laptops out? Had a baby girl? Was on maternity leave? This all sounded like it could be Penelope.

But was it really this simple that he would find her like _this_, simply by word of mouth?

Rising to his feet, Derek followed after the waitress as she went back to the counter. She turned around to face him as she was going to the cash register. "Can I help you, sir?" she asked.

He nodded and pulled out his phone. "Yeah," he said, scrolling through a list of pictures. "Can you tell me where to find this woman?" He showed the photo – one of himself and Penelope he had taken just before they had started their affair – to the waitress and watched as she smiled.

"Oh, yeah!" she said. "That's Penelope. She's another woman who works here."

Derek's heart leapt into his throat, and he urged the younger woman to continue. "Where can I find her?" he asked. "I need – " He paused, trying to slow his racing voice and not sound too eager. "It's important." She arched a brow, and he interrupted before she could say anything more. "Listen, I heard you talking to the woman over there, and I know you were talking about her, and…" His voice trailed off before he could say anything about the baby. He could hardly believe it enough himself that he had a daughter, and he did not think he would be able to say the words.

Shelby's eyes grew wide. "Oh my God!" she squeaked. "You're the dad, aren't you? She'd never talk about you, but –"

"Where is she?" Derek asked again. He did not care to hear any details about how Penelope refused to talk about him. "Please, I need to find them."

Grabbing a pen, Shelby began to draw a route on a piece of an old receipt. "Okay, this is where you want to go," she said with a bright grin. "She's the last house on the left." She handed the piece of receipt to Derek and nodded.

"Thank you!" Derek said, grabbing the paper and observing the roughly drawn map Penelope's coworker had drawn for him. Without bothering to listen to the waitress' reply, he jetted out the door and back to his car. His thoughts raced with anxiety as he buckled himself in and turned the car on. He was so close he could almost smell Penelope's perfume in his nostrils.

_I'm almost there, Baby Girl_, he thought as he sped off down the street.

XXXXX

"Mark, could you grab one of the bottles from the fridge?" Penelope called from the living room.

Her neighbor poked his head back into the room and grinned. "Absolutely, doll," he said, giving her a wink.

Penelope smiled and looked over at Mark's husband, Killian as he held her six month old daughter on his lap. She laughed as her baby giggled at Killian's funny face.

The past six months had been relatively smooth for Penelope and her daughter. Since Killian and Mark had moved in next door, she found herself not as alone as she once thought she would be. She had friends again, even if she missed her Quantico family. It was true; she thought about Emily and JJ and Reid and everyone else on the BAU, but she did not feel the need to cry anymore.

Even the thought of Derek only made her heart tickle with soreness rather than cripple her like it used to.

"She's getting so big," Killian commented, breaking into Penelope's thoughts. He tickled her little girl under the chin, causing the baby to laugh.

"Well, she eats like a horse," Penelope said, crossing her legs on the couch. She laughed slightly. Her baby turned at the sound of her mother's voice and grinned even wider. She started to reach toward her mother again, flapping her small hands excitedly. Already, her head was covered in a mass of dark curls, and she had two of her baby teeth poking through her gums. She was going to look just like her father when she had all her teeth in.

Killian smiled and handed the baby back over to her mother. "I'm so excited to be watching her when you have to go back to work," he gushed, running his hand through his beard. "She's a joy."

Kissing her baby's cheek, Penelope nodded. "I don't want to leave her," she murmured, mournfully. "I want to stay home with her all day."

"The real world calls, though, doll," Killian said. "You gotta work if you want her to eat."

Penelope smirked and shot her friend a look. "You'll understand when you and your hubby have kiddos. You won't want to leave them ever." She turned her attention back to her baby and kissed her forehead. The little girl giggled, reaching out her hands and touching Penelope's chin. Her little fingers were silky soft.

"Question for you, dollface," Killian asked after a few moments of Penelope and the baby making faces at one another. "You ever gonna tell me and Mark about the little girl's daddy?"

Sighing, Penelope sat up straighter and fixed her friend with a look she meant to be scathing. Instead, it came across as mildly annoyed. "Honey," she muttered, "didn't we say we weren't going to talk about him?"

"Who was he, though?" Killian asked. "I mean, you ran away all the way the fuck up here to get away from him. A girl like you doesn't just run away from things unless something _really _hurts you."

She sighed. It did not hurt to think about Derek anymore, not like it once had anyway. She just felt angry with him for throwing their whole friendship away. "Long story short is he was my best friend, he was married, and we had an affair," she mumbled.

A knock sounded from the door, and before Penelope could rise from the couch, Mark went streaking by the living room. "I've got it!" he cried, disappearing again.

Killian laughed at her. "Even the door can't save you," he said. "But really. Does this ex-best friend know about little Miss –"

"Yes, he does," she snapped. "And he hasn't even called. He –"

Mark interrupted her from the door, though. "Penelope, babe! You've got a –"

Before he could finish, the sound of a man grunting and hitting the floor sounded. Penelope's eyes went wide, and she tucked her daughter close to her chest to go see what had happened. When she and Killian reached the door, they found Mark on the ground, nursing a bloody nose.

"Oh my God!" Penelope cried.

Killian knelt on the floor beside his husband, absolutely shocked. "Oh, Christ!" he said. "Honey, what happened?" He looked up at the figure in the doorway. "Hey, who the hell do you think you are, hitting my husband like that?"

Penelope finally looked up from her downed friend to see who had hit him. Her jaw dropped, and she held her daughter tighter to her chest. Despite the turmoil at the front door, the baby was laughing up a storm, completely unaware of the gravity of the situation. Penelope's jaw dropped. She could barely believe her eyes.

"Didn't you hear me, mister?" Killian demanded, helping a woozy Mark up from the ground. "Who the hell –"

"_Derek_?" Penelope breathed as she stared into the eyes of Derek Morgan.

**So I know I haven't said the baby's name yet, but you'll have to wait until Derek learns it to find out. Next one is coming soon!**


	29. Explaining Time

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you so much everyone for your reviews and readership, guys. I really appreciate it. This one is exclusively Derek's POV, so Hotchniss fans forgive me. I hope you'll enjoy it, and I'll try to have the next one out as soon as possible.**

Derek stared at the scene in front of him in horror. If he had slowed down for five damn seconds, he might have realized the man who just called for Penelope was no lover of hers. Instead, he had let his fist do the talking, and he would be lucky if the man he had punched did not press charges.

Of course, when Penelope appeared in the doorway, he lost all ability to speak, and he was unable to apologize for hitting the man whose nose he had bloodied.

In Penelope's arms was his daughter, laughing and giggling like no awkwardness existed. He was struck by how much like him she looked. In his head he pictured a little girl who looked just like Penelope, but the baby before him only had her hair texture. The rest of her features came from Derek.

There was no doubt this was his daughter.

"Derek, what the hell did you do that for?" Penelope cried, breaking through his trance. She knelt down beside her friends. "Guys, I am so sorry about this! Let's go to the kitchen, and we can –"

The husband of the man who Derek had punched shook his head. "Don't worry about it, honey," he said, glancing up at Derek. "I think you and this gentleman have some things to talk about. We'll go back to our house to clean this up."

Derek did not miss the look of desperation Penelope shot her friends. Clearly she had no interest in being alone with him. That stung, but it was nothing he had not prepared himself for.

Once the neighbors left the front door and returned to their home, Penelope and Derek remained standing in the entryway. She stared at him, her eyes burning with anger. He met her eyes, feeling her fury deep within his gut. Never did he imagine she would stare at him with hate after what happened between them.

"What were you thinking, punching Mark like that?" she demanded.

Looking down sheepishly, Derek shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "I – I thought he was…" He could not finish his sentence. He was ashamed to say he was jealous.

She rolled her eyes, figuring out exactly why he had punched her friend. "How did you find me?" she finally asked.

He shook his head. "Why is _that_ what matters?"

"Fine," she snapped. "What the hell are you doing here?" She held the baby girl even tighter to her chest, as if to shield her from Derek.

Tightening his jaw, he looked at his daughter. "I came to see her," he managed past the lump in his throat. He saw her open her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand. "I know what you're thinking, Penelope, but I'll explain everything soon. I just…I just came to meet her." He was ready to get on his knees and beg. "Please."

With narrowed eyes, Penelope stared at him for a long moment. After her hate-filled gaze had finished studying him, she gave the slightest of nods. Kissing the top of their giggling daughter's head, she held her out for Derek to take.

Derek's eyes went wide as his daughter was placed into his arms. The little girl wriggled in his grasp. She looked confused for a moment by the transference from her mother to some stranger. Penelope went around behind Derek to shut the front door, and the baby squealed at her. But then, her eyes drifted to Derek's and she stared at him as if enchanted. Her doe-like eyes stared at him, and he gulped around the thick lump in his throat.

Then, a broad grin stretched across her small face, making her cheeks swell up. Giggling, she reached her small hands out to bat at his face. Derek could hardly help smiling back, and he adjusted the baby in his arms.

"Hi there." Without looking up from his daughter, he asked Penelope, "What's her name?"

Penelope waited a moment before answering. "Her name is Amina," she answered. "Mina, for short."

Derek tweaked Mina's nose and laughed as she grabbed his finger. "Hi, Mina," he said, trying to lighten his voice. He had no idea how he was supposed to talk to a baby, but Mina seemed fine with it. "I'm your daddy."

Mina just laughed at him again. She poked at his collarbone and grabbed at the collar of his jacket, not dropping her smile.

In that instant, Derek knew he was ready for this. All the fears he once voiced to Penelope when Savannah insisted on having children evaporated as soon as he and Mina's eyes had met. This was _his _daughter, and it did not matter he knew nothing about raising a child.

He loved this little girl with his whole heart. He could learn.

"She needs to eat," Penelope said, shortly. "Come with me to the kitchen so we can give her a bottle."

Without a word to Penelope, he followed her down the narrow hallway. He held the baby to his chest, smiling as she giggled at him. Mina shoved one of her hands into her mouth, patting his collarbone at the same time.

"Your Grandma Fran is gonna love meeting you," he murmured, not wanting Penelope to hear him mention his mother. She would surely think he had maliciously kept the information of Mina's birth from Fran, but he would soon figure out a way to tell her the whole truth.

Producing a bottle, Penelope handed the bottle to Derek. "You hold it like this," she instructed, demonstrating how to hold the bottle. He was thankful for the direction. He had no idea what he was doing. Soon enough though, Mina was sucking down her bottle like she was gasping for air. Penelope backed away with crossed arms, keeping her eyes trained vigilantly on Derek as he held Mina.

"You have a lot to explain to me," Penelope growled with narrowed eyes.

"I didn't know," he blurted out, looking up at her as he fed the baby. "I swear to you. If I had –"

She curled her lip back in a snarl. "Don't try to tell me that! You told me a thousand times you never wanted kids. I don't know why I expected you would be here for me." Shaking her head, she laughed with a metallic bitterness Derek could practically taste in the air. "I was an idiot."

"Penelope – " he tried.

Holding up her hand, she shook her head. "Let me know when she finishes the bottle. She needs to get a nap, and she's usually tired after getting fed."

And before he could say anything else, she stormed from the room. He figured she would hover in the doorway, but all the same, she was ignoring him.

Derek sighed and looked at his daughter again. A smile graced his lips, and he kissed her forehead as she suckled on the bottle.

"I wish I'd known about you when you were born," he murmured to her. "I'm not going to lie: I'm scared to death that I won't be a good dad to you. But I promise I'm going to try so, _so _hard. And I'm going to show your mommy how much I love you both. She probably won't believe me, but I just have to tell her and hope she'll hear me out."

Mina merely blinked up at him as she sucked down the remainder of her bottle. Once she finished, he set the bottle on the counter and adjusted Mina in his arms so they were at eye level with one another. She grinned once again at him and reached her little hands up to grab his chin.

Laughing, he kissed her cheek. "Well, it's time for you to get a nap," he said, reluctant to let her go. He would be willing to let her sleep in his arms, but he knew with the coming conversation he needed to have with Penelope, Mina would need to be somewhere else.

Mina giggled.

Derek smiled and adjusted her in his arms again, hoping he was holding her right. "Time for some sweet dreams, kiddo," he murmured.

XXXXX

After Mina was put to sleep in her crib, the baby monitor on, Derek followed Penelope to her living room. She had ignored him the entire time they were putting the baby to sleep. Now he hoped she would listen to him.

He took a moment to examine where Penelope now lived. The walls lacked much color, a sandy beige color; it was so unlike her purple walls in her apartment in Quantico. The knick-knacks were gone, and the furniture was simple.

This was hardly a place for Penelope Garcia to be. It was not good enough for her.

"Penelope," he said, leaning against the doorway to the living room. She kept her back to him still, and she kept her face neutral as she sat on her couch. He sighed. "Penelope? Can we please talk? There's a lot we've got to discuss."

She huffed. "Like what? How you couldn't even pick up a damn phone when you found out I had a baby? _Your _baby."

He narrowed his eyes. "_You _left," he accused. "You clearly weren't planning on telling me."

"But I did!" she hissed. "And even when I called, scared as hell, you didn't come. Even if you didn't want kids, I thought our friendship meant more to you than the way you acted."

Standing up straight so he could look at her directly, he shook his head. "I told you, I didn't know!" he repeated. "Savannah told me a few nights ago when we got into an argument. She said you called when I was in the shower, and she didn't tell me. She called it her 'revenge'. I came as soon as I found out. I made Lynch search every birth record in the state because Savannah didn't tell me anything but Vermont."

Penelope shot to her feet and glared at him, her hands on her hips. "Why should I believe that?" she demanded. "You never wanted kids, so why should I think you aren't lying?"

"You told my wife about the baby, not me!" he said. "This is the wife that I cheated on. Is it impossible for you to imagine that she lied? You should know you mean more to me than that."

"How am I supposed to think that?" she cried. Tears filled her eyes suddenly, and she shook her head. She blinked them away just as suddenly as they appeared, though. "Don't try and tell me I was more than your dirty freakin' mistress."

Passionate fire filled his belly. He shook his head with vigor and shot forward to her to grasp her by the shoulders. "No!" he said. "Don't think that!"

Her eyes went wide, and she pushed him away like his touch burned her. "Don't touch me!" she hissed. "I –"

He touched her face, his heart sore that she was so repulsed by him now. She needed to hear him out. "Penelope, I love you," he murmured. "I didn't know right away, but I started feeling this way before we started sleeping together. I never said anything because I didn't think you would want me, and you were still marrying Sam."

"You have a _wife_, Derek!" she snarled. "Don't you think that's a bit of a problem?"

"I left her," he said simply.

The tears returned, swimming on the surface of her eyes. Her lips parted as she looked at him. She looked like she was going to speak, then averted her eyes. She stepped away from him. He was thankful she had not shoved him this time, but she still could not meet his eyes. She went to stand in front of her window, looking out at the trees and losing herself in them.

"Penelope, please look at me," he said. "You have to believe me. I want to be with you, I want to be here for our daughter. Let me –"

She whirled around to face him. She pointed to the door. "You need to leave right now," she said, her voice rigid as steel.

"I – I –" he stuttered. "Can I at least –"

"I'll call you when you can come see Mina again," she snapped, "but you need to leave right now."

Derek stared at her, terrified at her non-reaction. She did not seem fazed at all by what had said. He knew his eyebrows must have shot all the way to the top of his head. Did she truly despise him this much, even when he told her Savannah lied?

"I'm serious," she said, her face completely neutral. "Please leave."

Feeling completed dejected, Derek's shoulders slumped. He rubbed his face and sighed. Without another word, he started for the door, closing it softly behind him so as not to possibly wake Mina.

**Hang in there, everyone! I promise this angst is almost over.**


	30. This Time It Ended Right

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks guys for all your reviews through this story. This one is another just Penelope and Derek one, but Hotch and Emily will be back in the next one. I'm almost done with this story, and then we'll be off to the next one. Thanks for all the support through the story, guys!**

Penelope watched as Derek got into his car and drove off down the tree-lined road. Tears that had filled her eyes burned behind her lids. She wanted to keep them in, but she could hardly keep them in. They trickled down her cheeks, and she put her forehead in her hand.

She could barely believe what just happened. He loved her. Derek said he loved her.

Had this really just happened?

Reality became too heavy for her to handle. She sank onto the couch again. The weight of her life started to hurt. Putting her head in her hands, she tried wiping her eyes. The tears had other plans for her, though. It had been so long since she shed tears over Derek, and bottling them all up had done nothing to help her now. Thick sobs came pouring from her throat, and she knew she probably looked like a mess.

She dreamed of him saying those words to her, but never even remotely believed it would happen. And now he wanted their daughter? He said he wanted to be part of Mina's life, that he wanted to be there for her.

His face had not lied, even when she tried denying she had seen it. She knew him too well to think she had seen a farce in his eyes.

Penelope pulled her legs up to the couch and rested her forehead against her knees. Her tears wet her jeans, and she tried to muffle her sobs. Why did this have to happen? Why did he have to show up, just when she was adjusting to her life and settling in with her daughter?

Their daughter. He clearly wanted to be part of Mina's life. There was no lie about that in his face, either.

"Dammit, Derek," she cursed into her legs. He just had to come and say these things to her when she had just burst out of her vulnerability. She wanted to hate him for it, wanted to beat her fists against his chest and demand he let her go back to the new life she had started for herself.

I love him too much, she thought in frustration, a pinch of pain shooting through her heart.

After several more minutes of sobbing and thinking about how much she loved and hated Derek for what he did to her and for what she did to him, she wiped her now-raw eyes. She rose from the couch and huffed; her pants were thoroughly soaked on her thighs. Rolling her eyes, she trudged off to her room to strip from her pants and change into something else.

Staring at herself in the bedroom mirror, Penelope observed her puffy, red eyes. She leaned in to wipe away the remainder of her tears.

"Get ahold of yourself, Garcia," she told herself in a raspy voice. "Don't let him get in your head."

However hard she tried though, she knew he would always be in her head. He would always be in the back of her mind. His hands would be imprinted into her skin, never to be removed, no matter how hard she scrubbed.

Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she lay back against the sheets and stared at the ceiling. She had no idea of how long she spent in her dreamlike state, but after awhile, the baby monitor went off with the cries of Mina.

Penelope got up from her bed and went to go to her daughter. Entering the nursery, she instantly forced a smile as she went to stand over Mina's crib. Her daughter squirmed, her arms going up so she could reach for her mother.

"Hi there, sweetie pie," Penelope cooed, lifting Mina out of the crib. Mina reached out to shove her hands in her mother's curly hair. "How's my sweet girl doing right now?"

Mina blinked at her, grinning in the process. Even without all her teeth, her smile was reminiscent of Derek's. Penelope sighed and positioned the baby on her hip so she could carry her out of the nursery.

"We'll give your da – " She could not find it in her to say"daddy", even to her daughter. "We'll just call him. That sound good?" She nuzzled her daughter's cheek with her nose and kissed her. "You wanna see the man who was here earlier?"

Mina giggled, clapping her hands.

Penelope sighed. "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

XXXXX

Derek paid for his coffee at the bakery he had been at earlier in the day. He refused to go back to the hotel room until he had to. His thoughts needed to stay away from Penelope for the time, and the hotel would give him nothing but silence.

Silence would only allow his thoughts to fester.

Sitting down at the same table he had been at in the afternoon, he looked out the window again. This time the streets were shrouded in darkness, dimly lit by streetlights lining the road.

"So how did it go?"

Derek looked up to find Shelby, the waitress who gave him directions to Penelope's house. He grimaced up at her, sipping his coffee before he had to answer.

"Umm, well…" he began. "I'm here."

She sat down in front of him. "So, not too well," she concluded.

He shrugged. "She said she'd call me when I could see Mina again," he said, not going into further detail. "I'm not sure when that will be, though." He sipped his coffee again. "Maybe never."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Shelby said. "She loves you. I'm pretty certain about that. She literally wouldn't mention you when someone asked who Mina's dad was." She arched a brow. "The real question is: what did you do to her that she had to leave wherever you guys are from?"

"It's a long story," he said, gruffly. "But the shortened version is I just found out about the baby. The only people who knew about her were Penelope and, uh…" He took a moment to gulp another sip of steaming coffee. "My wife."

Shelby's eyes went wide. "Oh," she said.

Derek nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, whatever the long story is and whatever the details you left out from the long story are, you do love her," Shelby said. "And you can't give up on her."

He arched a brow at her. "I'm sorry, but how can you be giving me advice?" he asked. "You can't be over eighteen."

Shelby laughed at him. "I'm right, though," she said. "And you should listen to me."

Before Derek could respond, he felt his phone vibrate in the breast pocket of his jacket. Holding up his finger, he pulled his phone out and checked it. He prayed it was not Hotch calling him back to DC on an emergency case.

Instead, it was a number he did not recognize. What the text said, he was incredibly pleased to see.

Mina is going to bed soon. You can come see her before I put her down.

His face brightened at the text, and he jumped to his feet. He looked at Shelby, pointing to the door. "Hey, listen," he said. "Thanks for, uh, the advice. I gotta run."

She smiled. "Tell Penelope I say hi," she said.

Giving her a thumbs-up, Derek sprinted out the door, his keys in his hand.

XXXXX

The pounding began at eight o'clock sharp. Penelope sat on the floor with Mina, watching as her daughter picked up blocks and tried shoving the large pieces of plastic in her mouth. Her attention switched to the door momentarily, and she called out, "It's open." She returned her attention to her daughter. She would wait until later to show Derek she had any interest in talking to him.

"Hey."

Turning around, Penelope looked up to see Derek standing in the doorway to the living room. She nodded to him. "She's going to bed in about half an hour," she told him, handing Mina another block. Patting the floor, she motioned for him to sit down beside her.

Hesitantly, he went forward to sit next to her. He smiled at their daughter. "Hi, Mina," he said.

The baby tilted her head up to observe Derek. Penelope sighed internally. She watched as Mina crawled forward toward her father. How Mina took a liking to Derek this soon without knowing him at all Penelope would never know. But as the baby crawled into Derek's lap and reached for his jacket zipper, she could hardly help but let the wave of adoration roll through her. Seeing him like this, cooing to Mina and being awkwardly loving, made Penelope's gut fill with a warm, passionate fire she never wanted to burn out.

Maybe she could admit to Derek how she felt about him.

"How's she doing right now?" he asked, looking up at Penelope with a smile.

Her heart filled with warmth at Derek smiling at her. She gulped past a thick lump in her throat. Rising to her feet, she motioned for him to pick Mina up and follow her.

"She's fine. Let's put her to bed," she murmured.

Derek rose, enthusiastically, and brought Mina with him. "We're gonna put you to bed, Baby Doll," he murmured.

As Penelope made her way toward the nursery, her gut churned with discomfort. She was unsure of what to say to Derek, but she only had moments before Mina would be in bed and she would be forced to confront her feelings for him.

With a racing heart, she picked out Mina's onesie for bed. She went through the motions of getting her daughter ready for bed, listening to Derek babble to Mina. The only sound accompanying Derek's voice was the insane pounding of her heart. Her ribcage hurt it was going so fast.

"You ready to give your mama a hug goodnight?" Derek finally said.

Penelope turned to see that Derek had already dressed Mina in her pajamas and was waiting. She caught sight of her daughter's wide gaze staring at her, and she could hardly help but smile. Reaching for Mina, she lifted her out of Derek's arms and kissed the top of the baby's head. Her soft mahogany hair tickled Penelope's upper lip.

"Goodnight, sweet girl," she whispered. "Mama loves you so much."

Mina giggled, tugging at her mother's hair as she was placed in the crib. Penelope smiled as she pulled the blanket up over the baby's lower half. She reached over to the windowsill and turned on the baby monitor. She rested her hands on the side of the crib, watching as her daughter's eyes started to flutter. Derek came up beside her, resting his hands on the crib as well. His skin touched hers, sending shockwaves through her limb.

"We should let her sleep," she whispered. Her voice came out more like a squeak than anything else.

Derek nodded. "Yeah," he said, his eyes not leaving Mina.

After another few minutes of watching their daughter drift off into slumber, Penelope urged Derek to follow her out of the nursery. She closed the door with a soft thump behind them. They started back toward the living room. Penelope could still hear her own heart beating in her ears.

"When can I come over again to see her?" he asked.

Keeping her back to him, she crossed her arms over her chest. "You don't have a case to be getting to?" she returned. She turned around to face him finally, arching a brow as she waited for his answer.

"Hotch gave me time off," he responded, keeping his voice completely neutral. He shrugged. "Considering the circumstances…."

The mention of her old boss made Penelope shift. It brought back memories of all her friends in Quanitco, of Emily, JJ, Reid, and everyone else. She thought of her godson, Henry, and of Noah and Declan. Her heart stung a moment, but she pushed it back down.

She needed to focus on what was happening now, in thismoment. The past could wait.

"Like I said, I don't have any cases, so I'm here as long as I need to be." He shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing at her again. "I'm not going anywhere until we figure something out. I want a place in my daughter's life." He met her eyes and held the gaze. She stared back at him, not doubting his word.

Penelope swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. She wanted to shout her feelings out, about how he hurt her, how she loved him, but her voice was clogged in her throat. "I…" she started. "I don't think…"

A glare formed on his face as he made an assumption of what she meant. "I have every right to see her, Penelope!" he growled. "You aren't going to stop me."

She shook her head. "No, it's not…it's not that," she tried again.

He rolled his eyes, waiting expectantly for her to say what "that" was. She made no answer. "I don't have time to listen to this," he said.

"No, Derek, please just –"

"Save it," he said. "Text me in the morning when you can handle me being here." Then he turned to go, stalking toward the door. His footsteps fell heavily on the wood of the floors, softening when he hit the front door's mat. The door opened, and she listened with a heavy heart.

_Don't let him get away_, an urgent voice whispered in her head.

Penelope shot after him as soon as she heard the door shut. Nearly ripping the door off its hinges, she ran out onto her lawn on bare feet. She did not even bother to shut the front door behind her.

"Derek, wait!" she cried, dashing across the cold grass.

He barely listened as he opened his driver side door. She went around and grabbed his wrist with one hand and his jacket collar with the other. "Please," she whispered, holding him still. "Please, listen to me."

"Why should I?" he demanded. "You don't want me around my own daughter, you don't want to listen when I talk, so why should I –"

Vigorously, she shook her head. "No!" she said, tears filling her eyes as a wave of emotion swept through her. "No, Derek, please. You can't leave." She edged her hand on his jacket upward so she could touch his cheek. The tears she had cried so many hours ago began to slide down her cheeks again. She forced him to keep her eyes on her, to see how she felt about him.

No visible emotion crossed his face, and she forced her voice to reveal itself. "You can't leave because I need you," she croaked. "I never wanted to leave Quantico, or you. I just thought I was doing the right thing for your marriage."

"You left when you were pregnant because you thought my failing marriage needed to be saved?" he spat, still not reacting to what she was saying with anything but coldness.

She bit her lip. "I didn't think you loved me back!" she said back, just as cold. "It's the same thing as you thinking I loved Sam."

Seeing her reaction to his question, he set his jaw. He remained silent. She moved her grip on his wrist to his hand, pressing her palm into his. Her eyes stared into his, and she ran her thumb over his cheekbone. "I love you," she whispered. She sniffled. "I have all this time. I wanted to tell you so bad, and I did. Savannah heard mewhen you were asleep. Now you're hearing me." She gulped, desperate. "You did hear me…right?"

Derek stood quietly for a long moment, not moving a single inch. Penelope feared for a moment he would tell her to release him, but he did no such thing. He remained completely still, his lips clamped shut as he stared at her.

"Derek, please," she whispered, fearful of his silence. Had he decided in the few hours since she had sent him from her house that she was no longer worth it? "I know I –"

But she had no chance to finish. He pulled her flush against him, pressing their lips together so they melded into a perfect fit. Her arms wrapped around his wide frame, and she slid her tongue past his willing lips. A soft moan came from her throat, causing him to tighten his arms around her body.

Passion swirled in Penelope's belly. She sighed as one of his hands grasped her breast. Her tears dried over the scorching skin of her cheeks. She never wanted to leave his arms again. Warmth surrounded her here, and even the cool night air would not bring her temperature down.

Derek broke the kiss, wrapping her in his arms to hold her in a tight embrace. "I love you so much," he murmured in her ear.

She nuzzled her face in his neck, kissing the skin of his throat. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I never wanted you to think I wanted to keep Mina away from you. I want us all to be together, and –"

Silencing her with a kiss, Derek pulled her even closer. "Talking can wait," he said, his voice husky in her ear. She sank even further into his chest holding him so tight she might have become part of him. "Let's just get inside so you can be warm." Tears continued to course down her face, and she choked on her voice. Falling against him, her fingers curled into his shirt. He saw her face and arched a brow with a smile. "What is it?"

With a trembling lip, Penelope looked up into Derek's eyes. "I just didn't think this would be how this would end," she whispered, pressing her lips to his again.

Giving her his classic grin, Derek pushed her hair behind her ear. "This time it did, Baby Girl," he murmured.

Penelope gave a sharp laugh and kissed him again. It really did work out. Her heart burned with happiness under the inky black sky. The cool breeze ruffled her hair, and she wiped her eyes. Beneath Derek's gaze, she felt like all that was missing from her in the last year start to return. Pieces slid back into place, and the tears evaporated from her eyes.

"Let's get inside," she said, taking his hand.


	31. Home

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**I'm so glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter. Sorry this took so long to get posted; I've been working a lot of hours lately and haven't been able to get much writing time. Here is the last one before the epilogue to this story. I really appreciate the reviews and readership. I hope you'll enjoy this one before the finale.**

Derek woke to the sun streaming in the window of Penelope's Vermont bedroom. The clock beside the bed read six o'clock in the morning. The baby monitor on the nightstand hummed, but was otherwise still and silent. Under the lavender sheets, just a mere few inches from him, Penelope slumbered. Her breathing was soft and low.

He smiled, his heart swelling with emotions he never knew he had buried inside him. Penelope somehow dug them up for him, and now he felt everything she stirred in him like a livewire going off in his nerves. Lifting his hand out from the covers where it rested on her hip, he moved a lock of her hair from her face.

_I love this woman,_ he thought to himself. _I love her so much._

A yawn escaped her lips, and she snuggled into the pillows even more. Her eyes fluttered open, focusing in on him with bleary-eyed tiredness. A smile lit up her face, and she reached across the small space between them to touch his chin with the tip of her pinkie finger.

"Good morning," she murmured. "I'm glad you're still here."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't go anywhere without you."

Derek moved closer to her, wrapping her in his arms. Her bare skin against his felt silky smooth, like plush satin. The musky scent of sex mixed with the faint aroma of her sugary vanilla body wash filled his nose. He kissed her soundly, his tongue stroking against hers. She curled into him, nuzzling her nose against his neck.

"I missed you," he whispered into her mussed up hair.

She ran her hand up his abdomen, tracing the lines of his muscles. Tingles ran up his spine, and he growled low in his throat as pleasure tickled his senses. Her hands roamed the expanse of his body, and his eyes closed as he relished the glorious feeling of being touched by her once more.

Abruptly, though, her hands left his body. His eyes snapped open in surprise, and he furrowed his brow at her gesture. "What is it?" he asked.

She sighed, biting her lip. "Where do we go from here?" she asked.

Derek paused. He had not even thought about what would happen after they found one another again.

Where _did _they go from here?

Thoughts whirl-pooled through his mind as he looked at her. Penelope was the love of his life, that much was clear to him. But he was unsure of what he wanted to do next.

Was he supposed to buy a house for them and Mina? Did he propose? He would be unable to marry her until his divorce with Savannah was finalized, so that meant he should probably wait to get down on one knee...right?

"I'm never leaving you again," he whispered. "I love you, Penelope. I mean that when I say it."

Her lips quirked into a smile. She tapped his nose and pressed her palm into his. "Oh? Which time did you mean it most?" When he offered no response and stared at her in confusion, she laughed and pecked his lips. "I was teasing, Hot Stuff," she giggled.

Derek grinned at her with relief, kissing her soundly. "I know," he fibbed. "And from here, we go forward together. I'm divorcing Savannah immediately so I can marry you." He watched as Penelope's face softened. Grasping her hand tighter, he shook his head. He knew what she was about to say. "Baby Girl, it's you I want. I don't want to try ad make anything work with Savannah. After she –"

Penelope silenced him by planting her lips on his. "I love you, Baby Boy," she murmured when their lips broke apart. "And I don't want to make you unhappy. I never wanted to do this to Savannah, but I won't let you be miserable to try and keep her happy. It isn't fair to her to have to be with someone who doesn't love her, either." She sighed. For a moment she seemed to disappear into her own thoughts. "This is such a mess…and we're horrible people."

Giving her a soft kiss, Derek shook his head. "We're people," he said. "We make mistakes."

She snorted. "Giant, horrible, life-ruining mistakes."

"Yup," he said. He rolled her under him. Her brown eyes gazed into his. Once again he was dazzled by how in love he could fall with her. There was no other connection in the world he would have as pure as this one right here between them. Nothing would drive him away from her. "But we'll never make those mistakes again."

She smiled up at him before pushing back and rolling on top of him. She did not kiss him; she merely stared down at him. "We'll never make those mistakes again," she repeated to him. Tracing the lines of his goatee, she added, "And I want to never make those mistakes again from home, in Quantico, with our other family."

Derek slid his hand between her thighs, caressing her soft flesh. He wanted to hear those words so badly from her, but in truth, he would follow her and their baby anywhere. Even if it meant to the other side of the world where no one they knew would ever see them again.

"Home sounds great," he murmured in her ear, running his hand farther up her inner thigh.

Biting her lip as his fingers reach her clit, Penelope failed to suppress her moan of pleasure. She leaned forward and suckled on his neck. "I love you," she whispered, lighting a fire in Derek's belly. As his other hand coasted up her side, a baby's cry interrupted them.

Both Derek and Penelope's eyes snapped open at the same time. Sliding off of Derek, Penelope grabbed her satin robe and put it on. Derek sat up and got off the bed. Smiling at him seductively, Penelope pulled him by his wrist to give him a quick kiss.

"Let's go get our baby up," she whispered, pointing to his pants on the floor.

Derek grinned. "Then we'll take her home," he said.

XXXXX

Aaron finished adding his signature to an official document that was a formality for who knew what. He could care less. Today he had important plans. Today he was going to propose to Emily. Who cared if it was the second time? This time it would be permanent.

No divorce. No separation. Just him, Emily, and the boys together as a family. After everything they had been through in the past year, he was certain things would work out this time around.

"Knock, knock." Rossi said, breezing into Aaron's office. He placed two files on his desk. "Two finished case files that just found buried in my desk drawer."

Arching a brow, Aaron picked up the folders and scanned through them. "Thanks, Dave," he said, absentminded. "I'll get these to where they need to go." When Rossi did not leave the room, Aaron looked up at him and arched a brow. "Something else you needed?"

Rossi frowned at him. "You're acting odd today," he noted.

Aaron could hardly suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Profiling me, are you, Dave?" he asked.

"Not profiling, just being observant," Rossi remarked. "And my observations are telling me that you are planning something. Something that has you distracted. Something that has to do with the little velvet box you're keeping in your desk drawer."

Shooting him a glare, Aaron hoped Rossi felt the scathing energy blazing from his eyes. "We're not going to talk about this."

"Need I point out I saw this coming long before the situation with Ian Doyle," Rossi gloated, plopping down in the seat in front of Aaron's desk. He smirked.

Rolling his eyes, Aaron focused on anything he could to not see Rossi's look of triumph. He was in no mood to deal with his friend's cheeky behavior. "Yeah, you've obviously got everything figured out," he muttered, adding one of his own files to the short stack he had begun with Rossi's.

"Have you thought about where you're going to drop the question?"

Aaron noted the change in Rossi's tone from merciless teasing to genuine curiosity. Looking up at his friend, he shrugged.

"I don't know, to be perfectly honest," Aaron admitted. "I want to do this right, that's all I know. This time isn't going to be like our first marriage."

Rossi snorted. "I sincerely doubt your marriage is going to go down the tubes the way it did the first time you married Emily. You two have been through a lot since then. Doyle, the divorce, moving in together for a second time. And to make matters even _better_, you've adopted Declan. That's a huge step in your relationship. You'll be fine."

Aaron sat in silence, his eyes drifting over to the family photo that resided in the corner of his desk. In it was his whole family, him and Emily standing behind Noah and Declan. He smiled slightly then. After years of being miserable and separated from Emily, he finally had his family back together.

"And there you go, finally smiling," Rossi noted.

His eyes went back to Rossi, and he widened his smile. "Yeah, I am," he said.

"Good," Rossi said. "You'll find you like it. Smiling is healthy for a person. I'm sure Reid could give you the statistics and scientific research on it."

Before Aaron could respond, a knock sounded from the door. Emily stood in the doorway, a bright smile on her face. She entered the office, carrying a full armload of files for Aaron.

"Hey, you two," she said brightly. "What're you talking about? Anything important?" She went around behind Aaron's desk and planted a kiss on his cheek as she set the case files in front of him.

Rossi exchanged looks with Aaron. Rising from his seat with a smirk on his face, he nodded to Aaron and Emily. "Well, I'd better go and see if that bar tender I met out at the jazz club the other night calls me back about the date I asked her on. I'll just shut the door on my way out for you."

As soon as the door closed behind him, Emily leaned forward and planted a kiss on Aaron's lips. "Gotta love Rossi's intuition," she remarked, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "He knows when to shut the door for friends."

"Mmm," Aaron murmured, pulling her closer. He gave her a longer, stronger kiss. "I love you, you know that?"

"I do know that," she murmured. "And I do know that Rossi was smart to close the blinds."

Aaron glanced at his office window that looked out over the bullpen. The blinds were indeed drawn. As soon as he saw it, he pulled Emily onto his lap and started dotting her throat with kisses. Emily did something she never did, and giggled. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"What's the occasion for the makeout session in your office during the middle of the day?" she asked.

He held her on his lap and gave her a small smile. "Well…" His voice trailed off. Rossi had asked him if he had any special plans for proposing to Emily, and he really had not. He sighed. Since he had no plans, he figured now was as good a time as any. It may not be the storybook proposal more than half the women in America would want, but Emily Prentiss was not like most women.

Nudging her off his lap gently, he pulled open his desk drawer and produced the small velvet box. He rose from his desk chair and went to stand in front of Emily. He watched her face carefully as he opened the box and showed her the brilliant diamond on the silver band.

Emily stared at the ring, her face blank as she used her index finger to trace the band. Clearing his throat, he lifted the box from her hand and slipped the ring on her finger.

"I know it's been a long time, and we were already married once," he said, "but I wanted to do this right this time. I know we're doing really well right now, and we've got the boys in a really good spot right now. I want to marry you…again."

She kept her eyes on her hand where the ring sat.

Aaron did not know what to do but continue, even though she was not saying anything. "I know our marriage wasn't perfect the first time, but I want to try again. I can figure out how to change how I am to keep us together this time."

Her silence still worried him, and he was ready to go on. Before he could continue, though, Emily wrapped her arms around his neck gently and kissed him. Her lips were gentle against his. He pulled her close, wrapping her in his embrace so their bodies meshed together in a perfect fit.

Resting her forehead against his, she smiled. "Yes, I'll marry you," she said. "Again."

Aaron laughed, lifting her off her feet and twirling her around. "I can't wait until we tell the boys," he said, a smile spreading across his whole face this time. "They're going to be thrilled."

Emily smiled at him. "I know," she said. Sighing, she pecked his lips again. "Do we tell everyone, or do we keep it a secret for a little while?"

Furrowing his brow, he looked at the ceiling. "I don't even know," he said. "I hadn't even thought about it."

She grinned devilishly. "_Well_, we could sleep on it?" she suggested.

Growling low in his throat, Aaron grinned at her. He slid his hands lower to her hips, pulling her closer to him. He buried his face in her neck, kissing the skin of her throat. "Who says we're going to do any sleeping any time soon?" he rumbled.

Laughing, she turned in his arms so her back was to his chest. His hands coasted from her hips to her breasts. He kissed her shoulder, then slid one hand down to the hem of her shirt, pulling it from her pants. The tips of his fingers caressed the taut, flat skin of her abdomen. He felt her shiver.

"So where do you want our honeymoon to be this time around?" she purred, guiding his hand to her belt buckle.

"Well, I was –"

Before Aaron could continue, a fierce knocking came from his office door. Hurriedly, Emily jumped from his arms. She tucked her shirt back in and glanced at him. "Close call," she murmured, an amused twinkle sparkling in her eyes.

Aaron chuckled and shook his head before going to open the door. When he opened the door, a breathless Reid stood before them. "Hotch, Prentiss!" he gasped.

Blinking at him, Emily arched a brow. "What is it, Reid?"

He merely shook his head. "Come with me! Reid and JJ are out there, too." Turning on his heel, Reid ran swiftly back out the doors of the bullpen and toward the elevators.

"Wonder what's gotten into him," Emily said, taking Aaron's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Well, whatever it is, it must be important," Aaron said as they walked away from his office and out of the bullpen. When they arrived in front of the elevators, their eyes went wide simultaneously. A bright grin covered Emily's face. Aaron's heart leapt, and a smile covered his face.

In the hallway stood the rest of the BAU team, all three of them crowded around Morgan and Garcia. A baby was in Morgan's arms, and Penelope embraced JJ in a tight hug.

"I missed you so much!" JJ said, her eyes closed as she held Garcia. She moved back from the hug to look at the baby in Morgan's arms. "And look at your little girl! She's so gorgeous."

"She definitely has Morgan's eyes, that's for sure," Reid commented, leaning forward to examine the baby's face.

Morgan grinned at Reid. "Hell yes she does!"

"Good to have you back, Kitten," Rossi said, kissing Penelope's cheek. "What's the little _bella_'s name?"

Penelope beamed and answered, "Amina. We call her Mina."

"Oh my God!" JJ cooed. "Can I hold her?"

Morgan nodded and handed his daughter over to JJ. As JJ held the baby, Aaron noticed Penelope and Emily's eyes meeting. He smiled as Penelope made her way through the rest of the team to stand in front of her.

Emily's eyes misted over, and she gave Penelope a hesitant smile. "Hey Garcie," she said in a small voice.

Penelope could hardly contain herself. She threw her arms around Emily's shoulders and hugged her. Emily put her arms around Penelope as well, and she closed her eyes, savoring the embrace. Her lips moved as she whispered something in Penelope's ear. Penelope nodded in response, whispering something as well.

"I'm so glad you're back," Emily said in a voice finally audible to everyone else. "I missed you."

Penelope smiled back at her. "I missed you, too, Black Haired Beauty," she said, using one of the many nicknames she assigned Emily all those years ago. She took Emily's hand and gave it a squeeze. Her eyes went to Aaron's, and she went forward to hug him, too. "Hey there, Bossman."

He smiled and hugged her back. "Good to see you, too, Penelope," he said, glad to see his former technical analyst back in Quantico. He _had_ missed her, especially after seeing how miserable Morgan had been. It was not hard to imagine that Penelope would have been in the same state of mind. "And Mina is a beautiful name."

"Thanks, Hotch," she said, giving him a smile.

Baby Mina squirmed in JJ's arms, causing Penelope to go back to her daughter. Aaron put an arm around Emily's waist as they watched their friends return to their baby.

"What did you say to each other?" Aaron asked his fiancée beside him.

Emily shot him a look. "No, no," she said, _tsk_ing him. "That's for me and Penelope to know."

Kissing her cheek, Aaron laughed. "Fair enough," he said. "I'll trust you."

Grinning, Emily winked at him. "Good."

**So we've just got the epilogue after this chapter, and then we'll be off to the next story!**


	32. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**We have reached the end of the ride for this particular story. It's been a thrill writing it, and I appreciate all who have read and reviewed. My next story will be coming soon, this one a Morgan and Garcia story. At some point I will do another Hotch and Emily story, but my muse just has to come up with something for them. Thank you again for all your support, and I hope you enjoy the ending to this story!**

_1 Year Later _

"What time are the kiddos going to be over at our house?" Penelope asked Emily over the phone. Two days ago had been Emily and Hotch's second wedding, and while they went on their honeymoon to Bora Bora. While they were gone, Penelope and Derek would be watching Declan and Noah.

Emily sighed. "We're bringing them around your place in about two hours," she replied. "I hate to leave them."

Penelope smiled. "Oh, I know you do sweetie," she said. She tapped her fingers on the patio table of the coffeehouse she was waiting for Derek at. "But think of all the great honeymoon sex you'll be able to have without them being there. And we'll take good care of them for you."

"Oh, I know you will." Emily laughed. "If I trust you with being my maid of honor, I can certainly trust you with watching my children," she joked.

Chuckling, Penelope sipped her latte. As she looked up over her coffee cup and down the sidewalk, she caught sight of Derek approaching the shop, their almost two year old daughter in his arms. He looked at the grinning little girl, pointing toward Penelope at the table. Mina's head shot in her direction, and she began to clap excitedly.

Penelope's face brightened, and she returned her attention briefly to the phone. "Well, my darling Emily," she said, "I have to be going. My fiancé and daughter are almost here."

"Well, we'll see you in just a few hours then," Emily said.

"Okay, Black-Haired Beauty," Penelope chirped before hanging up the phone. She waited until Derek had set their daughter on her feet so she could dash over to her.

Mina hurried toward her mother. "Mama!" she cried happily.

Picking Mina up, Penelope kissed her cheek. "How's my sweet girl?" she asked, She rubbed noses with her daughter to give her an Eskimo kiss.

Mina giggled at the touching of their noses. "Hi Mama," she said, wrapping her arms around Penelope's neck. She buried her face in her mother's hair. "You're prettiful today, Mama."

Smiling, Penelope replied, "Why thank you, missy. But I think you're even _more _prettiful." Mina had decided "prettiful" was her new favorite word, and she had been using it everyday to tell her mother she liked her outfit. Penelope set Mina on her feet again and looked at Derek. Her lips tilted upward in a smile. She allowed him to pull her close for a kiss. "Hello to you, too." She gave a short purr, winking at him.

"Hey, Baby," he said, resting his hand against her hip.

She nodded to the coffee on the table that she had bought for him. "Coffee for you, Handsome," she said with a smile. She sat down again and was ready to open her lap for her daughter to come sit. Instead though, Mina hopped right on Derek's lap before reaching for the milk her mother had bought for her.

The sight of Derek with their little girl never ceased to warm Penelope's heart. Since he came to Vermont to find them, he sought to embrace his role as a father. In the beginning, he feared constantly he would do something wrong. Everyday though, Penelope managed to find a way to convince him he was wrong and his fears were irrational.

Mina's deep love for him did more than anything Penelope could tell him, though.

As their daughter sucked down her milk through a giant yellow straw, Derek looked back up at Penelope. "Did Prentiss tell you what time she was going to bring the boys over?" he asked. Ruffling Mina's curls, he added, "Miss Baby Doll here is excited to have them with us for two weeks."

Mina merely blinked as she continued sucking down milk.

Penelope reached over and stroked her daughter's cheek a moment. "I bet she is," she said. Rising to her feet, she kissed the top of Mina's head and pointed to the coffee shop. "I'm going to use the restroom. I'll be right back, sweets."

The straw released from Mina's tiny lips. She grinned toothily at her mother. "Okay, Mama," she chirped.

Smiling, she kissed the top of Derek's head, too. "I'll be back, Baby Boy," she murmured.

Derek nodded. "Hurry back, Baby Girl," he said.

Heading inside, Penelope walked straight to the back to the bathroom. As she entered the hallway, she ran smack into someone. And when she saw who it was, she damn near gasped.

The woman she ran into stopped, too, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Penelope," Savannah said. Her face remained neutral as she stared at Penelope. Nothing lit up her eyes, no recognition, no anger, no hatred.

Penelope could hardly understand why there was no reaction from the other woman. She knew her own emotions were raging with guilt. The feeling had dulled over time – she had Derek and Mina in her life to keep her joyful – but that did not alter the fact she still bore self-resentment toward herself for destroying a woman's life.

Still shocked into silence, Penelope noticed something different about Savannah. Her belly protruded outward; she was pregnant. Around five months if Penelope was correct. She must have gone through the fertility treatments.

"Savannah," Penelope said hoarsely. "How – how are you?"

To her great surprise, Savannah nodded. "I'm doing fabulous, actually," she replied. Resting her hands on her belly, she added, "I went ahead with a very successful treatment." She paused, as if pondering what she was going to say to say next. "Sam donated his sperm. We're not together, but we thought maybe we could raise a baby together." She pursed her lips. "We both wanted one before our significant others said they didn't want one."

There was the reaction Penelope had expected. She bowed her head momentarily before feeling brave enough to look Savannah in the eye again. "Savannah," she murmured. "I – I never got to really say I'm sorry to you after…" She swallowed hard. "After you found out. And I am. I'm truly sorry."

"For sleeping with my husband?" Savannah's face still remained calm, but she kept a firm gaze.

Penelope paused before she could answer. She wanted to say the proper response to this, that she was sorry for sleeping with Derek, but she could not find the words to do that. The truth was – the truth that was about to come out – she was not sorry anymore for sleeping with him. She had Mina, and she loved Derek too much to say she was ever sorry she had him in her family now.

"For hurting you," she responded, managing to keep her voice from shaking.

Savannah stared at Penelope one more time before speaking. "I forgive you," she said simply.

Penelope blinked in disbelief. "Wh – what?" she choked. Even though she was not sorry for sleeping with Derek, she could hardly imagine Savannah forgiving her for this.

Nodding, Savannah answered, "Yes. I do. Derek would never give me children, and now I can have the baby I've always wanted." She placed both hands on her belly this time and rubbed a loving circle on it. She smiled. Looking back up at Penelope, she tilted her head to the side, her face returning to its same neutral stance it had been in before. "Even though I forgive you, though, I'm never going to forget that pain I went through. So I think it would be best if you never speak to me again. I appreciate your apology, but this is where we part ways."

Penelope had nothing she could say. Her brain lost all thoughts, and she became immersed in the moment in front of her. Unable to speak, she merely nodded. Acceptance washed over her. The fact Savannah could forgive her somehow lightened her heart, and a heavy weight was now lifting from her shoulders.

Without another word, Savannah moved around her and left the coffee shop.

When Penelope returned to Derek and Mina, she stopped beside him and cupped his cheek. Leaning down, she gave him a gentle kiss. Whenever she looked at this man, she would feel a constant sense of gratitude. Their circumstances for being together had not been conventional, nor had they been right. But the truth was, her love for him was too strong to truly be sorry.

Guilt no longer mattered. All that did matter now was the love had for him and their daughter.

That was the truth.

When she broke the kiss, he looked up at her with a smile and arched a brow. "What was that for?" He grinned wolfishly. "Not that I'm complaining or anything."

Running her fingers through Mina's curly hair, Penelope smiled. "I just want you to know how much I love you," she murmured. She never wanted to keep anything from him, but she decided she would not tell him about her final encounter with Savannah. He did not need to know about it.

All he needed to know was she loved him.

"And I love you," he whispered back, reaching his hand up to stroke her cheekbone.

XXXXX

Night descended upon Bora Bora, the full moon rising high in the sky. The inky night sky turned the normally aqua water a deep azure. Emily sat on the white sand, enjoying the warm breeze that tousled her black hair. She smiled with happiness, staring out at the water. Aaron came up and sat beside her. She reached over and ran her hands over his shoulders and chest. She leaned her head against him.

"You feeling any jet lag?" he asked, kissing her forehead.

"None whatsoever," she said.

Reaching for her left hand, Aaron held it up to admire the ring on her finger. "This really was the perfect fit for you, wasn't it?" he remarked.

"It looks damn good," she replied, giggling a bit. The diamond twinkled beneath the light of the moon. She really did love this ring. Some might say this ring was a symbol of his love for her. But Emily did not need a ring as a symbol of his love. She felt it every single time she was around him. It twinkled in his eyes every time he looked at her, and touched her every time they made love.

"I miss the boys already," she murmured.

He nodded in agreement. "I miss them, too," he said. "Think we should give them another sibling?"

She thought about it a moment. "Should we give them a little baby sister they'll torment and protect at the same time? And in turn, she'll pester them?"

He slid behind her so she was positioned between both his legs. She leaned back against his chest. His fingertips trailed up and down her arm.

"Maybe," he commented. "Or maybe we could give them a baby brother. You never know what will happen."

"Garcia said we were right to leave Noah and Declan at home so we could have tons of hot sex. She was very insistent on it. Maybe she wants us to work on that number three."

Aaron chuckled. "That's because that's what she and Derek are going to do when they go on _their_ honeymoon," he laughed.

Emily shook her head in amusement. "You know, I'm betting you're right," she said. "But enough talk about Morgan and Garcia's sex life. I really, _really _don't want to think about that."

"You know, you're right," he said, laughing lightly. "I think we can find another sex life to focus on." Aaron's lips started to trail wet kisses up her shoulder. She closed her eyes. Tingles ran up and down her spine, and she knew what awaited her in a matter of moments. She sighed, her head falling back against his shoulder.

"This feel good?" he asked, running his hand up her thighs. He applied pressure, massaging her flesh in sensual circles.

She purred low in her throat. "You know I do."

Abruptly, he flipped her over in the sand and stared down at her. He kissed her soundly, running his hand to the apex of her thighs. She moaned. Before he continued touching her though, he pulled back and moved her hair behind her ear.

She smiled up at him, and he returned one. "I love you, you know that, right?" he murmured.

Emily nodded, a burning filling the back of her eyes. Happy tears. "I know," she whispered, kissing him lightly. "And you know how I know?"

"How?" He arched a brow.

"Because I trust you," she said. "I trust you more than anyone in my life. And because I can trust you, I know that means you love me. You earned my trust, and now I'll always tell you the truth."

Aaron kissed her soundly. "I love you so much, Emily," he said in her ear.

Emily responded by kissing his throat. Even after all the lies she had told him in the past, he still found it in himself to love her. This was all the proof she needed that when the truth came out, love would be stronger than ever.


End file.
